#still full of 'fuck you for hurting (I think) the two (remaining) people I care about'

[remotespontaneouscombustion]

He's radiating large amounts of silent hostility in a certain former mafia executive's direction.

[diamond-champagne]

5. I Need You

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

warnings: none but let me know!

feedback is always welcome, besties <3

Enjoy!!

December 2023

The UConn Women’s Basketball Team is celebrating at Ted’s on Thursday. The team is going into their Holiday break on a winning streak. Final exams are finally over. That and the overall giddiness from the holidays makes the team extra cheerful. The alcohol is flowing steadily and their table is buzzing with laughter.

Azzi is sitting at their shared table with her arm around Riley. The two are engaging in a conversation with Nika about Christmas movies when Aubrey yells “Y’all look at PB blushing like a schoolgirl”. The group immediately turns their attention to the blonde whose attention is currently being occupied by a man. He’s got a few inches on the basketball player, standing at a full 6’6. The man in question has caramel skin and Azzi can tell that he has at least half a sleeve on his right arm.

The group watches them interact. It’s obvious from his body language that he’s talking loudly so that Paige will hear him over the music playing. Whatever he says must be funny because the girl tosses her head back in laughter. It also must be complementary because she blushes harder. A smile graced her lips. Azzi can tell that she isn’t sure how to accept whatever compliments he’s dishing her.

It doesn’t matter though because he’s still talking to Paige. The mystery man is in the middle of doing said talking when he reaches for the basketball player’s waist. He pulls her closer so he can lean down to talk in her ear and she let’s him.

The two are completely unaware that they have an audience until they are about to part ways. Azzi watches them switch phones to seemingly exchange phone numbers when she catches Paige’s eyes. Her eyes widen and she blushes some more before scurrying back to the table with the rest of the group. She’s greeted with whoops, praise, and many variations of “Get it, Paige” before she sits down.

“Paige Madison, who was that?” Ice asked.

“His name is Cam. He’s on the football team.” Paige smiles.

“And what did this Cam say to have you smiling like that?” KK asks excitedly.

The blonde shrugs, trying to be nonchalant. The smile itching its way on her face betrays her. “He just called me pretty. I don’t know! He’s just nice.”

Azzi decides then that doesn’t like Cam. She doesn’t like his tattoos or that he plays football. She also thinks his name is stupid.

More importantly, Azzi doesn’t like he talked to Paige more in a 10 minute conversation that they have in weeks. She doesn’t like he pulled the older girl closer to him in a bar full of people. Azzi hates that Paige seemed to enjoy it because there was a time that she was pulling Paige closer in a bar full of people. Azzi hasn’t done that in a very long time.

That thought angers Azzi. She’s angry at herself for letting them get this messy. She’s angry at Paige for not fighting harder. She’s angry at Cam for doing all the things she couldn’t; all the things she wouldn’t.

It’s the anger that fuels her next comment.

“So it’s that easy, huh, Paige? We just have to call you pretty?”

The entire group, including Riley, looks at Azzi in shock. She doesn’t care about that, though. She cares about the look that Paige gives her. It’s a combination of shock, hurt, and embarrassment.

She just humiliated her best friend in front of everyone.

The worst part is that Paige doesn’t even argue back with her. She just looks down at her fingers and remains silent.

Azzi starts to apologize but before she can, Riley is pulling her out of the bar. The volleyball player only stops tugging her arm when they are alone, standing in a secluded section of the parking lot.

“What. The. Fuck. Was. That?” Azzi flinches unintentionally. She’s never seen the other so upset. The brown-eyed girl opens her mouth to speak but stops immediately as the other has raised her hand to communicate that she isn’t done.

“You’ve been off for fucking weeks. At first I thought I was crazy but then I saw how you reacted when Paige invited Blaire to Aubrey’s house.” Riley scoffed but then continued. “I knew you had feelings for her. I should’ve known better.”

Azzi immediately begins to apologize, “I’m so sorry-”. Riley doesn’t want to hear it. “You’re an asshole; and not just to me. What you said in there was fucking disgusting. Paige didn’t deserve that.”

The basketball player nods in agreement and understanding. She doesn’t trust herself to speak anymore. She doesn’t even know what she would say.

“I know, bu-” Riley cuts her off again. “You clearly don’t know, Azzi, because judging by the face Paige made, this isn’t the first time you’ve hurt her either.”

Azzi doesn’t know what to say, so she says nothing and watches as the volleyball player turns to leave. The basketball player turns to walk back inside Ted’s hoping that she gets the opportunity to apologize to her best friend.

That hope quickly deflates when she realizes that Paige isn’t there.

“Where did she go?” She asked desperately.

“She left.” KK answers. Azzi doesn't miss the glare that the freshman throws her way.

“Where did she go?”

“Azzi, maybe that’s not a good idea.” Caroline states carefully.

“Where did she go?” Azzi frustratedly repeats. Her patience is wearing thin. She needs to see Paige because for the first time since she’s known her, Azzi feels their friendship slipping away. Azzi knows that their friendship had changed; but she never thought that there would be a day when it was over. That can’t happen. Azzi needs Paige.

“She went home.” KK says suddenly. Her confession elicits looks from her teammates. Azzi assumes that they weren’t supposed to say anything. She doesn't care though because she’s leaving Ted’s before anyone can tell her otherwise.

-

Paige watches as Riley drags Azzi out the bar; waiting until they are completely out of sight before getting up to leave. The blonde-haired girl can feel her eyes fill with tears and quickly blinds rapidly to keep them at bay.

“Hey, I’m gonna head out.” Paige announces before getting up from her seat. There’s a chorus of protest from her teammates but all she wants to do is get home; preferably before she starts sobbing in the bar.

“Paige,” Carol starts. “Be careful.” Paige nods and leaves the bar.

She makes it all the way home and through the door before she breaks down. Paige doesn’t make it to her room; instead, she slides down her front door to sit on the floor. The blonde-haired girl sobs harder than she has in a while. Her body shakes, her nose is runny, and her head hurts. She sits there for a minute and while she is still crying, she is calm enough to get off the floor. Paige makes her way into the bathroom with tears down her face to get into the shower. She cries as she takes off her makeup and gets into the shower. She cries as she gets dressed in her pajamas. She cries as she sits on the couch, curled up in a blanket.

Paige is angry. She’s angry at herself for loving Azzi. She’s angry at Azzi for doing this to them.

She’s also tired.

Paige is tired of being angry. Paige is done.

-

The sight of Paige after she opens the door breaks Azzi’s heart. Her blue eyes are swollen and tear filled and her nose is red and runny. It strikes something deep within her to see the older girl so upset. Azzi isn’t even sure how to fix the mess she’s made.

“Can I come in?” Azzi asked softly. She watches as Paige wordlessly steps to the side to welcome her into her space. Paige shuts the door before moving into the kitchen to get a glass of water. The blonde-haired girl then grabs some Advil to ease her headache. She takes her medicine while Azzi starts the conversation.

“I’m sorry” Azzi whispers.

“For what?” Paige asks as she sits her glass on the counter. The younger girl immediately crosses the kitchen to invade the older’s space. She reaches for the blonde to pull her into a hug when Paige flinches away from her touch. Azzi’s eyes fill with tears as a result. Paige doesn’t want Azzi to touch her.

“Paige, please!” Azzi cries.

“What are you apologizing for, Az?” Paige asks. She’s not crying anymore but her voice is thick with emotion and her body drags.

“For what I said at Ted’s” The younger girl starts. “I got jealous seeing you with that guy and I got-.” she tries to explain before she gets interrupted. “You don’t get to be jealous.” Paige sneers. “Not when you have a girlfriend, not when you left me in the morning to see her, and certainly not after you left my apartment when I asked if you had feelings for me!” The blonde-haired girl spat.

“I know I messed up but I’m sorry, Paige.” Azzi pleads. Tears flow freely down her cheeks as she thinks of what she can say to fix this.

“You’re sorry for Ted’s?” The older girl questioned. Azzi shook her head in agreement.

“Fine. I forgive you. Now, leave.” Paige demanded.

“N-No” Azzi stutters out. “We need to talk about this!”

“Talk about what, Azzi?” Paige exclaimed. “Should we talk about how you don’t want me but clearly don't want anyone else to have me? or Should we talk about Riley? Or we can talk about-”

“Fuck, Paige! I said I’m fucking sorry!” Azzi exclaims while flailing her hands. In her movement, she knocks the glass off of the counter.

The glass shatters. Its contents, water and ice, leave a mess on the floor. Paige immediately drops to start picking up the broken glass. All of the energy she once had, gone. Azzi doesn’t miss a beat in helping her.

“I'm sorry.” Azzi speaks softly. Paige can only sigh as a response. She feels like she’s been here before too many times.

“Stop apologizing.” Paige grunts out. “If I apologize to this glass, it’ll still be broken. It won’t fix anything. You apologizing won’t fix anything. I’ll still love you in the end. My heart will still break in the end. So, just stop.” Her defeated tone shatters Azzi from the inside out.

“Paige-” Azzi starts before Paige cuts her off. “Just go.” the blonde says.

This time, Azzi listens.

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[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 11)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, drinking, teacher-student relationship, angst, jealousy, fluff, smut.

Word Count: 4495

A/N: Yes I did drop off the face of the earth for a bit but can I make it up to you with an extra long chapter?

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 11, Next Chapter

Your fight was the last time you saw Remus Lupin that week, the next lesson you had with Lupin was taken over by Snape, even your tutoring was now with McGonagall. Lupin returned on Friday evening, you saw him in the great hall during dinner, and that's when you received an owl from him which was rare during dinner. He didn't pay you any attention, so you decided to take the letter to the lake and read it by yourself so no one could interrupt you and he couldn't watch or analyse you open it. You sat down by the water and opened it.

"My dearest, Y/N,

Oh how I've fucked up, in life constantly but with you in more ways than one. I don't know how to express my words in person I've never been good at words when it came to the important things like people. This is version five of this letter.

I traveled home after Monday. I couldn't bare to look at that desk, I couldn't go to Sirius as his home will forever smell like the first time I kissed you. When I arrived I found your letters, they made me realise you left to protect us from ending up in this very situation, I thought it was from fear of getting told off for being home late but really you knew that Percy was looking for clues. Unfortunately his letter found me first and convinced me to push you away, that I was risking too much by risking your schooling, I don't care about my career, what's life if you only live for a job but I don't want to mess up your future. I take my job very seriously but life is  more important.

You were right when you said I'm scared of having something good, however you were wrong when you said you were convenient. You're far from it. I might be lonely but that's not why I'm drawn to you, I'm drawn to your wit, I'm drawn to your smile and I'm drawn to your world. If we could spend forever sitting on my sofa listening to music and talking I would die a happy man.

I don't know what my feelings for you are but they are strong and they scare me, you're much more important to me than anyone else I know and I fear to admit it. New Year's Eve I messed up, if we were ever going to kiss I wanted it to be after a date where I show you how you're meant to be loved and offer you the world not drunk on the steps of my best friends house.

I don't know how you feel about me and if I hurt you too much, if that's the case I am terribly sorry I wish I could make it right. If an inch of you still thinks I'm a decent man I have two offers for you.

A. If you want to remain friends and go back to last year's rules "no dear, no alcohol and no kissing" meet me tomorrow evening in my office for tea and tunes, or let me know in your own way

B: If you are up for an adventure my dear and willing to see what happens if we risk it and you still feel any attraction after my poor behaviour: Meet me tomorrow morning at 9am in Hogsmeade, next to the three broomsticks.

C: if you simply hate me like you said (at least 4 times using my full name I'm glad you don't know my middle name) all I ask is show up to my lessons, we can arrange another teacher to take over you 1-on-1 schooling but please show up. I promise to pretend I don't think you're the most amazing witch and woman I've ever met. Please don't let me ruin your exams or future.

Yours, Remus John Lupin.

P.S. To answer the question in your original letters from the 1st of January keep my sweater, it will simply be a painful memory if you choose C and I like the way it looks on you if you choose B ."

You felt a mixture of excitement and relief with his letter, it felt like everything has magically explained itself. Remus was an anxious writer with a tendency to sabotage his own happiness but he was trying. He was trying for you.

The next morning you woke up early to get ready to see Remus, you didn't know what to expect but you were excited. You arrived in Hogsmeade early knowing Remus as someone extremely punctual you were shocked to find Remus wasn't there. You waited until 9:05 but nothing, so you began to walk back at towards the castle. "Wait!" Remus said and you turned around to see him holding two cups of coffee, one of which had obviously slightly spilled on him. "It's with milk!" He said holding a coffee forward towards you.

"Thank you." You said grabbing it.

"I'm glad you came." He said softly.

"I'm glad you sent that letter." You replied. "You have coffee on your sweater." You pointed out reaching in your pocket for a tissue.

"I didn't think through apparating with two cups of coffee.' He admitted with a shy smile as you dabbed his jumper dry. "Thank you dear." He continued softly.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked.

"Where?"

"London, grab my hand and hold your coffee tight." He said reaching out a hand and you took hold of it and you appeared in Holborn, London.

"I thought that wasn't possible in Hogwarts." You admitted.

"That's why we met in Hogsmeade dear, sorry about being late, there was a queue." He admitted showing you the coffee.

"I thought you may have changed your mind." You admitted.

"I was scared you wouldn't come." He admitted.

"Liar you got two cups of coffee." You pointed out.

"I had a feeling you'd show up, now dear, see today as my way of apologising to you. I have a small plan but if you want to do anything just tell me." He said and at that moment you turned the corner to the British Museum. "Have you been here before?" He asked.

"Maybe once or twice as a kid."

"Okay but have you ever had a magic tour of this place?" He questioned and you shook your head. "Great." Remus led you into the British museum, he looked quite excited and more young now than ever. "Now not everyone knows that many treasures in this building are actually artefacts from great magicians."

"So they stole from wizards too?" You asked and Remus laughed.

"They sure did, now not many people know how some of these great people used magic to help muggles and how some of this stuff is either cursed or enchanted." Remus continued as you walked through the beautiful foyer.

"But I'm sure you do." You said teasing him and he nodded.

"I'm not just a pretty face, unlike you I spent a lot of time in libraries."

"Are you saying I don't study? I spend a lot of time in my professors office."

"You spend a lot of time listening to music and distracting me while I try to mark work, dear." He shot back and you laughed. "Now as I was saying, I may not be a rich man or have much to offer but I have a lot of knowledge."

"You should be a teacher." You said with a wink.

"You should be a comedian. Now enough talking watch this." He said and then one of the Egyptian statues moved and stood up.

"Holy shit, are you allowed to do that?" You asked looking around.

"Don't worry no one will notice." He said

"What was that?" You asked.

"It's a Pharos tomb guard, they're enchanted to stand when an attacker approaches, they have a lot of ancient magic in here."

"So why didn't they do that when they were removed from the tomb?" You asked as you and Remus continued to walk and look at the different statues.

"They did, they did for a very long time, however when dark wizards realised there's money in helping archaeologists they helped lift curses or limit enchanted objects. Those guards were stopped from being the soldiers they were, the only thing left is the command to stand when you summon them." Remus explained, you were impressed by his knowledge. You walked through  the ancient Egyptian part for another few minutes before Remus took hold of your hand and hurried you to the Ancient Greek part. "This bits my favourite, sorry is it okay if I do that?" He asked gesturing to your hand.

"It's encouraged." You blushed.

"Tell me when I cross a line Y/N, we still need to talk about us but first I want to hold my part of the deal, showing you who I actually am."

"And who are you profesor?"

"A lonely bookworm with a furry problem and a teaching job to pay the bills."

"Don't forget the cottage." You winked making him laugh.

"Now these are the Parthenon marbles, the Parthenon was being used as a base to store ammunition by the Ottomans and some idiot messed up and blew up the whole thing."

"Some idiot is that the technical term profesor?" You poked him in the arm and he rolled his eyes. You found him very attractive when he was more casually dressed, with his jacket drooped over his arms and a warm sweater on.

"It is now." He replied. "Long story short some guy named Lord Elgin went to Greece and asked the Ottomans can I have this? And they said sure and he took it, as lords usually do. It's missing a lot of parts as they're back where they belong but a small part of me feels lucky to have them here as they tell a story. You see if you come over here you'll see the Centaur." He led you over to the far wall. "He tells a story of the battle between Centaurs and Lapiths at the marriage feast of Peirithoos. And if you do this even with it's missing parts you get to watch it." He lifted his wand and the marble moved. It began plaything the story throughout the panels as if they were alive just like the paintings in Hogwarts. "And if you think that is cool look behind you." You turned around and the main sculptures were all moving, they were missing parts but they felt human.

"That's incredible, show me more." You expressed with a big smile and Remus couldn't help but smile back. "Come on." He said putting one arm around you while his other arm still had his jacket drooped over it. And like that, he led you through the museum holding your waist and making your heart flutter at his actions and brain amazed at the world of knowledge he was sharing with you.

It was one of the few times you saw Remus truly happy as he immersed himself in history. It was beautiful to see him care free not putting himself down, not talking about his condition just being himself. As you walked out the museum hours later he still had a hand around your waist. "Now dear what would you like to do?"

"Should we go get some food?"

"What a wonderful idea, there's a great pub not too far from here, only thing I need to get some cash out as I'm low on muggle money." He explained.

"I can pay."

"I'm sure you can but you won't I'm taking you out on a date it's my treat." He said as he rushed in front of you to the cash machine. "Okay" he said looking at it. "Okay, okay." He continued looking for where to insert his card. "Just a moment." He said after inserting it and just starring at all the options on the screen. "Merlin." He whispered quietly while pressing random buttons.

"You do know how to use it?" You asked suggestively.

"Of course I do." He said but he was obviously struggling.

"Here let me help you." You stood alongside him pressing the buttons for him. "How much do you want to withdraw?"

"£20?" He said hesitantly.

"£20?" You confirmed.

"£50."

"£50 are you sure?" You asked in disbelief.

"I'm not good with this, I haven't been in a muggle pub in forever I don't know the prices these days. I'm sorry, get however much you think it'll cost for us to have food. This is so embarrassing." He admitted.

"£50 it is, Remus the muggle world is my world it's okay to ask for help, I literally didn't know you could aparate in Hogsmeade." You calmed him while you finished the transaction.

"Yeah that was silly, everyone knows-"

"You don't know how to use a cash machine Remus!" You interrupted.

"I'll shut up. Now off to the pub, thank you for your help." He took your hand and lead the way. The pub was quite busy but you expected it as it was lunchtime on a Saturday. It was nice to sit opposite Remus having a meal, flirting, chatting and being yourselves. You didn't feel anxious like you did sometimes on dates, you felt like you were hanging out with a friend that you had a crush on, he would make you blush a lot with his words but he was also clumsy and stumbled a lot, something you never saw in him at Hogwarts. He ordered fish and chips and knocked over the sauces with his hand, when he went to pick them up, he hit his head on the edge of the table, you found it all cute and amusing but he was obviously embarrassed. "Am I making you slowly think I'm an idiot?" He asked after the incident and you simply replied with. "Only a little bit, makes you less intimidating."

"Am I intimidating?" He asked.

"Not at all." You said and he shook his head while laughing. After you ate you decided to take a walk along the river at first you began to talk about meaningless stuff like how you missed the Christmas lights or how Remus enjoyed the fact you can find oyster shells and old pipes on the rivers edge from the Victorian era. However the conversation changed when Remus asked. "What do you see us as?"

"I don't know." You admitted a bit of anxiety started to grow inside you.

"I don't know either, but I think we need to set some ground rules."

"What do you suggest?"

"Defining what's okay, like for example I think if either of us is developing strong feelings like love for the other we should cut it off as we don't want to hurt each other and with our current position we can't be in a relationship and be student and teacher." He said his eyes moving all over the place but avoiding you and he used his hands to emphasise what he was saying.

"How come?"

"Well for starters we can't do this all the time, if I was in love I would like to offer that person all my love, I would like to take them on dates, I would like to walk around and hold their hand, I would like to bring them to see my friends and so on... we can't do that, it will hurt to love someone but not be able to live in public, I don't want to risk the pain for either of us." He explained and you nodded.

"So what can we do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to continue to relax in your office with you." You began and he nodded. "I want to be able to kiss you, I want to be myself with you, I want to smoke on the bridge with you and when no one is watching I want to be held by you."

"And we can do that we can just not love each other, and give each other a relationship that's the line."

"So we can see other people?" You questioned him and he looked puzzled.

"I would prefer not, I can't stop you but I may not feel comfortable with sleeping with you if you're kissing other men." He admitted.

"I'd prefer if you weren't kissing anyone else either... Can we do this sometimes?"

"Of course dear, however not as much as either of us would like to, maybe once a month or every so often not to raise suspicions."

"But I can come see you in your office every night?"

"My door is always open for you dear."

"Can I sleep in your office?"

"Where on the desk?" He remarked in a snarky way.

"Is that where you want to fuck me?" You matched his energy y.

"Well it's not for sleeping." He winked and the grabbed your hand."Enough serious conversations, let's just live a little before we have to worry about rules. Today, exists in a world of its own, what do you want to do?" He asked with a cheery tone.

"I mean checking out that desk sounds fun but maybe before that we should enjoy London."

"I'm already enjoying it right here." Remus said stopping and pulling you in closer, putting his arms around your waist. "I think I like London." He said looking at your lips.

"Oh really." You stood on your toes to get closer to him and he leaned down and kissed you lightly.

"Alright let's go I have an idea." He said once again grabbing your hand and leading the way. You walked into a small cosy record shop. You both started looking through the shelves showing each other records you thought the other would life and either replying with a "yes" or "not my style" once the yes like became tall enough you walked over to the record played and started listening to them, there was only one pair of headphones so you had to share, bringing in your heads close as you listened to the music. "Oh listen to that trumpet." You said listening to a Chet Baker vinyl. "Do you like it?"  Remus asked and you nodded. "This is one of my favourite songs, the earnest vocals, I fall in love too terribly fast, for it to ever last..." you began to sing along to the song and Remus smiled warmly at you, he couldn't help but kiss you on the cheek. "Let's buy it." He said.

"What Remus it's quite expensive?"

"That doesn't matter today dear." He said putting it back in the vinyl sleeve and taking it to the till. "Besides there's nothing more I want to do than lay in bed with you and listen to this here vinyl." He said while paying for the vinyl, he thanked the cashier a grumpy old man who didn't seem to care about your conversation. You continued to walk through London for a bit longer but it started to get colder and you both decided it was time to head home. "Okay, we need to aparate back separately as it may be busy with people at this time." He began. "You'll go first and I'll follow, I don't want to leave you alone back here, I'm sure you'll be okay but I don't want the stress." You nodded in reply. "Okay dear, once you are back it would be a good idea for you to go to your dorm or walk around somewhere far from my office, and in about thirty minutes from now come to my office and we can continue this evening." You nodded in reply and that's when he gave you a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll see you soon my dear." He said and you left. As you walked back to Hogwarts all the emotions rushed in, the excitement, the love you felt but shouldn't, the confusion from the conversation about not falling in love. You felt very overwhelmed but you also felt so many positive emotions that you couldn't wait to go visit Remus in his office. It was weird not being able to travel back with him after you were able to spent so long acting like a couple but it made sense you just wished it could be different. You walked back to your dorm room where Percy was sitting on the chair. "Hi Y/N." He said as he saw you coming in, you didn't reply. "Still giving me the silent treatment? You know I haven't done anything wrong all I wanted to do is spend time with my friend." He continued as you walked away.

"Our dear brother causing you trouble?" Fred asked as you walked past him.

"I'm going to hex him." You replied as your turned to the girls chambers.

"Be our guest." George said before you went into your chambers. It was good that Percy saw you, helps avoid his suspicions. You waited the thirty minutes before heading straight to Lupins office, just in case you checked if Percy followed you but he didn't so you were in the clear to go meet Remus. You walked through the corridors with a hint of excitement as you approached his office, you knocked on the door and Remus opened it almost immediately. "Hey you." He said with a smile letting you in and checking behind you if anyone was in the corridor, he closed the door and turned the lock before leading the way upstairs to his office where he also locked the door after you came in. "Hungry?" He asked as you sat down on the sofa.

"More peckish."

"Perfect, I have some cheeses here and some bread."

"How fancy." You pointed out looking at the small charcuterie board he prepared.

"Only the best for you." He said as he sat down beside you, a record he already had playing way playing in the background as you both sat their indulging into the different flavours. "Thank you for joining me today." Remus suddenly changed the subject.

"Thank you for showing me everything, and for the food and the vinyls, everything." You said a bit overwhelmed by his generosity.

"Come here." He gestured for you to come in closer, you lay on the sofa with your head on his crotch and he stroked your head lovingly, slowly playing with you hair. "I love how soft you hair is." He pointed out as he continued to stoke your hair. A few minutes later the vinyl playing finished and Remus gestured for you to sit up so he could change the music. "How about we try this one out dear." He said pulling out the new Chet Baker vinyl and your heart warmed. "Anything to drink? I've got a nice bottle of wine I've been thinking about opening."

"That sounds great."

"The music or the wine?" He clarified.

"Both."

"White or red dear?" He asked while opening a cabinet.

"What do you prefer? Maybe red?"

"Red it is." He pulled the bottle out and began to open it placing two glasses on the table in front of you and filling them up. "To wonderful day." He said raising his glass as he sat down. You rested your head against his shoulder as you sat in comfortable silence.

"You know moony, I prefer this when we're allowed to cuddle on the sofa and kiss sometimes." You broke the silence.

"Me too dear." He bought his hand up to your cheek and pecked your lips slightly before going back to the resting position. "I craved this every time you sat here and I sat at my desk aching to kiss you." He admitted. This was peace, you were in your safe place.

"Are you aching to kiss me now?" You asked quietly.

"Always." He whispered into your ear placing his glass down on the small table in front of you and then taking yours to do the same for you. He leaned in to kiss you, as the kiss depended you ended up laying on the sofa. He was above you his lips and your lips colliding as you both struggled to catch a breath. You felt him getting hard as he slowly moved his body up and down over you, you reached up for his shirt unbuttoning it and pushing it off his shoulders. "You're not wasting any time." He said between the kisses. His arms moved under your ass and he scooped you up in one movement so you were now straddling him, he pulled your shirt up and unclasped your bra as you began to grind on him making him harder and harder. He pulled away from your lips to suck on your nipples, the sensation made you moan in reply he grabbed your hair and pulled it down roughly making your head tilt back as he continued to worship your body. "Let's take this somewhere more comfortable." He said lifting you up and carrying you.

"You don't want to do it on your sofa?" You asked curiously.

"Oh I do, and my desk and every wall however today I will show you how you're meant to be loved not fucked." He said while pushing the door to his bedroom open and throwing you down on his bed. He unbuttoned your trousers and pulled them off along with your underwear, getting down on his knees and kissing your legs all the way up to your pussy. His hand reached up to your breasts where he started massaging them as his tongue flicked your clit making you moan. As he continued this movement with his tongue he moved his hand to slowly slip his fingers inside you pulling in and out while starting to alternate between sucking and licking. "Merlin you're either so wet or I'm drooling like a dog over how good you taste." He went straight back in and continued until you started begging for him as you felt yourself getting close. "Beg for me again." He growled as he moved to be just above you.

"Please." You barely whispered and he smashed his lips into yours, unbuckling his own trousers and taking them off while still keeping his lips on yours. You felt him thrust inside you leaving time for you to adjust, even though you remembered his size it shocked you how deep he filled you. "Are you okay dear?" He whispered checking in on you. "Mmhm." You confirm and he picked up the speed. He kissed you while going faster and started to slowly move his kisses down to your neck and breasts. You felt yourself get close as he ramped up the speed. "Cum for me dear, I want you to feel how good I make you feel." He said kissing his breath a bit. You couldn't hold it any longer and came which made him cum in you, you felt the warmth inside you as he slowed his pace and rested more of his body weight while moaning into your lips. He kissed you deeply once more before pulling out and laying down beside you. You were both panting as you lay there, Remus moved the covers and covered both of your bodies and kissed your forehead. "Good night dear." He whispered and you placed your head on his chest hugging him as his arm was around you. "Good night, Moony."

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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[fairydares]

loook i get why the idea of riding the "anti/pro" fandom disk horse makes people gag a little in their mouth and try to opt out entirely, but here's why i went from feeling exactly the same way to taking a firm profiction stance. I've been meaning to make this post for a while.

~10 years ago, I posted a fic for the first time and it got its own harassment campaign. The fic wasn't even sexual, and wasn't going to be (it remains incomplete). It was accurately rated T on fanfiction.net. Anyone in the Fairy Tail fandom will understand this: I literally got harassed for writing a "Lucy leaves the guild" fic💀.

After many nice comments, someone left a pretty nasty one. Hurt, I messaged them back. They acted super attacked that I'd responded (lmao) and after we argued, threatened to "rip my shitty story apart in the comments section" if I responded again. I told them "go ahead lol."

They went ahead.

Now know that it was a relatively small harassment campaign, but at the time, it was devastating. Right around then, I wound up in the hospital. After I got out, I went to excitedly check my fic, and found several reviews saying things I wouldn't repeat to my worst enemy. I was suicide-baited more than once, told "thank fuck you finally abandoned this shitty story, dumb cunt," stuff like that.

There were several accounts involved, and I can't say for sure, but I suspect at least a couple different people were involved, though probably at least half of it was one person.

All the other comments were screeching about how I hadn't updated, mostly. "NO UPDAAATEE WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS TO MEEEE??!!!" was one that stood out after I'd been miserable in a hospital for an extended period of time.

Idk what people think is going on when FT fic authors write this trope, and frankly I don't give a fuck. Because while I was partly writing the story out of some young, cringe feminist rage, I also did genuinely have a real story I was compelled to tell. I was inspired by another, popular fic I loved which used the trope to talk about how trying to shoulder our burdens alone really just hurts both ourselves and everyone who cares about us.

My own story was ultimately going to have similar themes, with more focus on strength, what it means, and in what contexts earning and having it actually matters. In retrospect, no wonder I wound up in hot water, because at the time "Lucy vs. Strength vs. Misogyny" was the FT fandom's Designated Nonsensically Activist Debate™. But that's partly why i wanted to write about it; engaging with the fandom had gotten me thinking about it 🤷‍♂️

Not too long after that, FFNet oh-so-benevolently granted us the ability to delete comments from our own stories (they never took my reports seriously at all, afaik). I deleted all or most of the harassers' comments (may still be a one or two up, and i'm fairly sure there's a couple comments defending my fic from the harassment) without saving screenshots, which I really regret now. I was just so mortified and full of self-loathing about the whole thing that i wanted to forget it completely. Something that had brought me joy at a very lonely, vulnerable period of my life had turned so negative, and i couldn't even tell the people closest to me about it without being made fun of for writing anime fan fiction.

I didn't understand why this happened at the time, but--after a period of trying to forget/bid out of it all with a slight anti lean (a common approach I see people use, and one which I'm not proud of adopting)--I just had to figure out What the Fuck Even Happened There. And I'm telling you, after years of reflecting, wrestling with both sides, and educating myself, that this "status quo of harassment" culture which pervades fandom goes way deeper than you think and comes out of a way darker well than you probably realize. An astonishing amount of this is, quite literally, TERF shit and evangelical shit.

Trying to be in fandom and take a stance of, "Anti/Pro shit? Ew, I'm Not Touching that," is like swimming in a heavily polluted river and being like, "Poison? Cringe. Not me lol."

You might be lucky enough to be in a less-polluted part of the river (AKA a relatively non-toxic fandom, in which case good for you!)...but tbh this rhetoric and peer-signalling will still seep in.

I can't stress enough that pro-fiction, AKA "proship", is the normal, leftist-about-art-and-sex opinion. Pro-ship is against all the horrible things you're against; in fact, pro-ship isn't trivializing real trauma by equating it with fictional trauma, or trying to apply literal evangelical/radfem solutions--which are proven not to prevent or help. Profiction/proship is literally just saying, "Fiction is fiction, reality is reality, and the two don't have a 1:1 relationship. And historically, trying to censor just things we've decided are bad has done nothing but get LGBTQ+ and POCs censored. Therefore, depictions of illegal things shouldn't be censored." That's it. "Proshippers all ship problematic ships," is a brazen lie. Many of them share other fans' disgust for those ships, they just don't believe in censoring fic authors over it.

It is also taking a stand against harassment because--and I hope my own story has helped drive this home--as with all groups who adopt ingroup/outgroup thinking, antis are defined by their tactics, not actual stances on real, serious issues. What happened to me was absolutely a result of anti, "it's okay to 'bully out' anything I just don't like" mindset pervading fandom. In a way, this was the mindset's final form. They didn't even feel the need to cite a reason the trope was "bad" or "wrong"; it annoyed them, and they viewed their own feelings as a valid enough pathway for policing to go right ahead and do so.

In the interest of offering solutions instead of just bitching about problems, I might make a "how to know if you've bought into these types of views"-type post sometime. Also might come back to this and provide some sources/citation.

[dark-night-hero]

You hate Kayden Break. He who is arrogant, full of pride, narcissistic bastard who doesn't know his place. He who wreak havoc of anyone who gets in his way. "The fuck is your problem?!" "The fuck you mean my problem?! I was minding my onw fucking business and you just hit me with your fucking divine whatever judgement your pulling off you bastard!" You shout right back at him with a glare, he was just as messed up and beat up as you. Serves him right! He better eat some shit and die!

You hate Kayden Break. He how made you stay up all night, empty wine glass in hand, gift long forgotten in the trashcan. Quietly staring at the clock as three days have gone by with no signs of him ever showing up. Setting the wine glass on the table, you reach out for the whole bottle of wine before chugging it down. You don't know if you should be hate yourself for thinking he would show up or hate him for making promises he couldn't keep.

You hate Kayden Break. "What the fuck was that?!" "What the fuck was what?" "The letter!" "Letter what letter?" "Kayden, do you take me as a fool?! People- the awakened one were laughing at me! Since when did you and Gestella have a thing?!" "Me and who- oh. Well, we did meet up once-" "So there was something really going on between the two of you!" "Why are you so mad? It's not like... you know what. I'm tired. I'm leaving." "Kayden." "Kayden!" "Kayden walk out of that door and were done!" He left through the window.

You hate Kayden Break. He who was too prideful to say sorry. Thinking everything could be resolve with some make up sex. Like everything would would be alright after some kisses. Sure kiss it better. But as you find yourself alone in the morning with no one by your side. You find yourself crying on yourside of the best cradling yourself back to sleep.

You hate Kayden Break. The selfish fucker who left no words upon disappearing. Leaving you all alone with uncertainty. Sure the two of you pften fought all the time, sure your last conversation may not have been the best and wasn't left on good terms, but damn it all. If he love you, if he loved you even just a little bit. Would it hurt him to tell you, to give you any idea if he was still alive out there?

You hate Kayden Break. He was a battle maniac, he has some loose crews in his head. He trashtalk a lot, he has this stupid habits of pissing off his enemy before the fight. He doesn't know how to take care of himself. Your relationship with him was not the best. It hurts. You hate how he loves to drive more into the thrill of the fight than to make sure he survived.

But you love Kayden Break. "Babe." "What?" "Remember when we first met?" "..." "I was so fucking mad back then but looking back, it was find of funny. Also, have I every told you-" you cut of as a pair of arm warped around you from behind. The way you felt his lips presses upon your shoulder into the back of your neck. "Hey, babe. That tickles." You knew it was his own way of saying sorry as he kisses his marks, those thunderbolt marks you sustained from your first encounter. "I'm alright babe."

But you love Kayden Break. The way you groan and was about to shift in your position when you realise someone was carrying you. The slight panicked but upon smelling a familiar scent, a rush of anger came up nevertheless you remained unmoving in his arms. His gentle steps echoing inside the mansion as he navigate his way into your room, all while princess carrying you. Setting you down on the bed before tucking you in. You felt his soft lips pressed upon your forehead. "Sorry I'm late." Damn it, you're supposed to be mad.

But you love Kayden Break. "What were you thinking ambushing her like that?!" "What?! What am I supposed to do? I ask her for a fight." "I- ah- hah!" You don't know if you should laugh or cry. Should you be glad to know that this man ain't that oblivious when it comes to you? "Kayden- babe. If Gestella comes after you, I won't lend a hand." "Wouldn't have it any other way." "Maybe I should join hands with her and beat up your sorry ass."

But you love Kayden Break. The way your entire body turned stiff before trying to relax as best as you can in a natural way as possible when the weight of the bed shifted. The way you you laid there unmoving with silent tears rolling down your cheeks before you felt him move closer towards you and soon after, an arm warped around your waist, pulling you close into his bare chest. The way his hand eventually made its way into your shaking shoulder and held it firm yet gently. "I know I don't deserve you." Thoss words eere beyond whisper. "I'm sorry."

But you love Kayden Break. "Stop laughing." "Haha- ehem.. pffff alright babe, I'm sorry." You cannot help but to look away only to burst out laughing upon seeing his current form, his disciple breaking into cold sweat as his mentor looks like he was ready to kill you in his fat form only to be in shock when his mentor ended up resting on your lap. "He's quite handful, isn't he?" You asked his disciple with a laugh. Petting the chunky orange cat on your lap.

But you love Kayden Break. No matter how much of a bastard he was. No matter how arrogant and annoying he had become. You love him and will continue to do so. "Kayden." "Doll." He gave you a smile, that damn crazy smile whenever he's feeling the thrill of fighting. "Come back to me alive and well." "Didn't I always come back to you?" This time there was a sly smirk in his face. Nevertheless there is this feeling of unease within you chest. "Hey, look at me." Before you knew it, he was within eye level as he lean down to look at you eye to eye. "I'll come back. Okay?" "... alright" "Good, now sit down and watch this shitshow I'm about to make." "..." "Kayden." "Doll?" "Please be careful."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

:it's a tough week, Kayden Break girlies/lovers out there. Trust me.

[pedrithink]

delicate ✩ kylian mbappé

summary: kylian's reputation was not one of the best and he is afraid that this will hurt you.

notes: just a little bit of angst (but happy ending ofc 🤍✨)

"I think we'd better if we broke up." Kylian's tear-filled gaze meets your extremely frightened and perplexed eyes. You couldn't understand what was happening.

“End it? What do you mean?" you ask in an exasperated manner, despair and anguish taking over your body. “What did I do?”

Kylian sighs and lowers his head, he can't face you now. He can't look you in the eye and tell you that he wants to break up with you. "You haven't done anything, I'm the problem, and so I think it's best if we end it here."

"I'm the problem." You said ironically. "This isn't a fucking TV serie, Kylian."

Kylian bites his lower lip to keep another tense sigh from escaping and stares at you with eyes full of resentment.

"End a nearly 3 year relationship over here? You've got to be kidding me, Kylian." Incomprehensible anger takes over your voice and you try to disperse the tears forming in your eyes.

"You know things are different." Kylian tries to explain himself, but he can't because he knows there is no reason for it. For your breakup.

"Different? Please, Kylian." You get up from the couch in one swift motion and shake your head in disbelief at what he just said. "You've been different and I know you wouldn't break up with me out of the blue. Things are hard for you, I know, but..."

Kylian interrupts you quickly and lifts his head to lock his eyes on yours. "But nothing." His tear-filled eyes break your heart. "Everything is shit, I can't think about anything anymore other than what people think of me and the crap they make up about me." The wry laugh he lets out is pitiful, you've never seen him like this. "You don't deserve to go through this, so that's why I think we'd better end it while there's still time for you to escape."

“Kylian, no. What? No.” Your confusion makes the moment more tense and Kylian not being able to look into your eyes for more than two minutes makes you sure that he doesn't want that either.

You can't believe Kylian's words and despair takes the place of anger as your brain assimilates all the things Kylian has said.

You sit down next to Kylian and watch the way he lowers his head as his breathing becomes more breathless. Your only reaction is to hug him and let him take comfort in your presence.

"I'm not running away." You state with all the certainty in the world and when Kylian makes mention of complaining, you shut him up. "I know who you are and that's all I care about."

The way Kylian drops his head on your shoulder makes you revel in his scent and presence. How did he have the nerve to try to protect you like that when all you want most is to be by his side?

"You make me so happy, you have no idea how good your presence does to me." You murmur as you lean your head against Kylian's.

Kylian turns to face you. "I'm just afraid that at the end of it all you will come out hurt." He takes his thumb to caress your face. "I can take anything. I can take people talking shit about me, calling me self-centered and spoiled, badmouthing the way I play. But, it would be the end of me to see you hurt. I couldn't take it."

Kylian's voice sounds so sad that you feel bad. "I don't care." You shake your head in denial. "Kylian, I'm not just here for the good times. I want to be by your side, supporting you, at all times."

Kylian doesn't know what to do. Confusion is the only thing that is present in his mind and he knows that he doesn't want that, he never wants to end your relationship because he knows that this would put an end to the eternal happiness that would be a life with you.

But he also has in mind that any and all things involving him and his career could hurt you and this would hurt much more than ending your relationship. He would rather see you happy without him than unhappy with him.

You remain silent for a few moments, but your mind doesn't stop working. You can't accept this, you would never accept that Kylian would break up with you over something like this. You want him in every way, in every form. You love him unconditionally.

The silence broken by Kylian made your heart race and your mind work faster to try to convince him that your relationship is the thing that makes you happiest in the world.

"I don't want that either." Kylian whispers.

Confusion has taken over your face and your expression makes that clear. "Don't want what?"

Kylian sighs and runs his hand over his face in an exasperated manner. "I don't want to break up. That's the last thing I want."

"Then why are you doing this to us, Kylian? It's years of dating, I thought I'd already shown you how much I love you." Your brittle voice and the tears streaming down your face wipe out any strength and courage Kylian had.

“It's not about love, I know you love me and know that I love you with all my heart." He takes your hands in his and fails trying to get the tears to stop falling from your eyes. "I just need to make sure you're going to be okay, I can't bear the thought of you looking sad seeing me like this."

"I don't give a shit, I don't accept that. I don’t." Your resistance causes Kylian to sigh. "Kylian, you're not breaking up with me. I'm here for you, whether you like it or not."

"Love..." Kylian tries to convince you, even though his heart is begging you to stay.

You hold his face between your hands and say everything by looking into his eyes. "Listen to me..." Kylian thinks that during this moment, he has fallen in love with you all over again. "I will never let go of your hand because 2 years ago we made a promise to be together at all times. I want to be by your side, I want to reach out my hand to you, I want to make you feel loved at every moment."

Kylian tries to hide a smile of relief. "I love you." He whispers as he leans in to leave a kiss on your lips, it went from one kiss to two, three, four....

You break that kissing cycle to try to get that thought out of Kylian's head, even though you are sure he wanted none of it. "All you need to know is that you can always count on my love. I want you to be aware that I'm here for everything, Kylian." He shakes his head positively. "I don't care about those thoughts circling your mind again because I'm not letting go of your hand."

Kylian smiles and pulls your hands away to deposit a warm kiss. "I promised you I'd be waiting for you at the altar, didn't I?" Your eyes sparkle and Kylian feels the luckiest when he sees your expression melt into love and affection.

"That promise you can never break." You say in an false-angry tone. "There is no one who can be more perfect than you. And perfection, I mean, comes in addition to your flaws and quirks. You are perfect to me."

Kylian's smile expands even wider and he doesn't hold back as he pulls you into a hug and whispers in your ear. "It feels like the whole world stops when I'm with you."

[fallingdownhell]

Hewwoooo. Can I ask for some fluff-comfort hcs for Alhaitham and Kaveh ? Reader feels kinda depressed and just wants hugs, kisses and warmth ;;;w;;;

God, I relate to that so fucking much! Thank you for requesting that. I may have cried while writing this, but only because it felt really good. Like, even while writing it, I felt some form of comfort. So thank you for that request. I didn't even know I needed something like that myself<3

Content: mentioning of depression; hurt/comfort; reader is hurting and the boys comfort you; gender neutral reader; all of the comfort!

Word count: 1,1k

Hope you all enjoy reading and remember, you are all loved and people care for you. Life is always worth living, even if it is just to spite certain people who want to tell you otherwise. Never give up on yourself<3

Alhaitham

He's not the best when it comes to matters of the heart, so I also don't think that he would be good at comforting someone

at least that would be what Alhaitham thinks of himself

he never really cared about how others feel, never cared if his blunt and honest words hurt their feelings. He never had a problem with that

so why is it that now, when he sees you sitting there, crying to yourself, that his heart breaks and his head screams at him to run to your side and be there for you

so he does just that

he walks over to where you are sitting on the ground, knees pulled up to your chest, your arms resting on your knees and your head laying on your arms, and he just silently sits down next to you

you notice the shift, that someone is there besides you, but you don't find the strenght in you to lift your head to confirm who it was, though you did have a sneaking suspicion by the lack of words being uttered

what comes next though is a surprise even to you

silently, Alhaitam wraps one arm around you, putting his head on your shoulder and carefully pulls you towards him

this way, you lean against his side, and he just holds you there

confused by his actions, you slightly lift your head, your eyes red from all the crying

he just looks back at you. he doesn't say anything, but his gaze is full of concern over you, yet he doesn't force you to speak about it. Instead he is just offering you his silent company, so you don't feel so alone

You gladly accept the silent offer, resting your head on his shoulder while you slowly begin to calm down again

his arm remains around you, his hand still resting on your shoulder, while he observes your surroundings, making sure that no one else will see you in this state

once you calmed down enough, he would ask you if you want to talk about what made you feel this way

the answer to that is totally up to you.

If you want to talk to him, then he would take you to a more secluded place, probably back to his home, where you two can then talk in peace, without any prying eyes or ears. Even then, he would still over you his comfort, even if he is still unsure about what to do exactly.

If you don't want to talk about it, then that it also fine to him. You are not obligated to tell him, after all. But you better expect that he will keep an eye on you from now on, so that he can react if you ever should feel like that again

All in all, I think Alhaitham would act purely on instinct for once in his life, should he ever come across such a situation. And I do think that he is quite good at offering this type of silent comfort for someone and just making you feel like someone cares for you and will always be there by your side

Kaveh

Kaveh is a lot more expressive when it comes to these kinds of things

he himself has his heart on his tongue and openly shows how he feels in every situation, so I think he would be quite good at handling the emotions of the people around him

so when he notices that you, a person he holds very dear to his heart, is crying, he would first enter a panic mode, before he calms down again

he would slowly walk up to you, as to not startle you, and then slowly wraps his arms around you, whispering soft things into your ear in hopes of calming you down

when he notices that that is not enough, he would swiftly lift you up and take you somewhere quiet, but I think he would just walk to his home, since that is the easiest solution in his mind right now

while walking, he would shield you as best he can from any weird looks people might give you two

once you arrived at his destination, Kaveh seems to be entirely in his element

he puts you down, either on the couch or his bed, whichever he sees first

then, he wraps you up in a warm blanket, before he leaves your side only for a moment, to make the both of you a cup of hot chocolate in the kitchen

once he returns, he also has a box of tissues with him, and you start to cry even more at the sight

he sits the cups down, hands you the box, and just sits there with you

he leaves the choice up to you if you want any form of physical comfort as well

if you do, he is more than happy to lift you into his arms, hold you tight towards him, whispering sweet, reassuring things to you. I think he would also run a soothing hand along your back, just trying to make you feel cared for and safe

if you don't however, he is not faced. People prefer different kinds of comfort, so he can accept it if that's not something you want. He would default to just being a silent companion, periodically telling you that you were fine, had nothing to worry about and that he would be there for you

Once you have calmed down enough, he would also ask if you would want to talk about it, also accepting any answer you might give him

he would never push you to open yourself up to him, but he wants to make sure that you are aware you can trust him with anything and he will always be there to support you through anything

he would then insist that you stay the night, not wanting to leave you alone and to your thoughts again. He wants to make sure that you're okay, and he can only do that if you are near him

so, you better expect him to not leave your side, unless he absolutely has to. But even then, he makes it a point to return as fast as he possibly can

overall does his best to make you feel loved and cared for, and I do think that he does a very good job at that

[leahsfiction]

PALISADE 20: In Their Fear Pt. 1 (00:22:21–00:29:57)

“Well, the good news is that it’s still 3 Grip, which means that—”

“Yeah.”

“—we will have a chance to take care of this.”

“Jack? Take it away.”

Something bad is in the air. Bilat crafts teeter in the sky like anxious flies. The distant sound of heavy ships taking off in great black columns of launch smoke. Everything seems too bright. The day is too warm. The headache sits on your forehead and on your temples.

In Carhaix, someone drops a tray of wine glasses. Pleasure yachts and private transit gather at the closed Portcullis Gate, and as it opens vanish into distant Principality space, passing ship after ship of settlers as they pour into the Palisade System.

In the early afternoon, the sun dims, and a red band of light appears around the middle of it, like a bauble wrapped in a ribbon, or a horrible mirror of the Diadem. It’s dim enough to look at directly, but it still hurts your eyes. There is a whine in the air. Every couple of hours there is a rumble of radiation static, and a corona jets from the surface of the sun.

The animals respond in fear. Birds rise, suddenly alarmed, from the trees, or cower silently in crowded branches. Rabbits and foxes freeze, dumb, in the middle of walkways. Ants rise en masse from cracks in the walls. Rivers seem to run slow, with an algaed stink.

Some of the spies know nothing and continue as usual, keeping their mouths shut, answering questions curtly, bargaining limitedly for clemency. When others see the quality of light in the room change, and the demeanour of the people around them alter—why do the calls to Gucci Garantine keep getting dropped? What was that scream of Nidean engines overhead?—they change their tune quickly. They start making specific bargains. Get me off-world. Get me through the Portcullis Gate and I will tell you anything you want. Or they close their mouths, defiant, eyes up. Millennium Break. You do not know the sharpness of the dagger on which you walk.

Of course this is unproportional, they think. What a waste. We’re in a good place. We know the identity of Hexagon. So they made some gains in the Bontive Valley. So they fucked us up on the Isle of the Broken Key. Small beer. We are the most powerful empire in the galaxy. The blood is in the grip. But the Stargrave, these pissant revolutionaries, are gonna get this whole thing blown up.

Or: they let something slip in their fear. The Stargrave has gone mad. She was on the edge and you fucked it. They say the BIS boss went to stay with her, try and calm her down. They say she makes her staff practice dying. They say she got wind that you were trying to come for her and fled, it only made this malady worse, this is the end of the world.

When the message comes to you—secondhand, of course, the Cause council has seen this first—it shows in grainy low-resolution the pinched face of an aide-de-camp as she turns the camera on. Then she tilts it nauseatingly, the view dips, and we see the only remaining right angle of a small ruined building. It seems to be surrounded by trees. The roof came away long ago; just two brick walls stand, forming the corner in which the Stargrave stands.

She is a blonde woman in her late fifties, maybe her mid sixties. She wears full military regalia. On her right arm, from her hand up to her shoulder, is clamped an unwieldy metal device, somewhere between a leg brace and a trigger mechanism. A leather strap, almost like the bit of a horse’s bridle, with eight buttons on it, crosses the palm of her right hand which faces towards the camera. Beneath the device you can almost see that her right sleeve has been rolled up to the shoulder, or cut neatly, and two IV needles run from its metal armature: one into her upper arm, and one just above her wrist. Her face is very pale; her lips white, pressed tightly together; dull light from the armed sun. She opens her mouth: silent for a second, lips parted. Then the man standing to her right—another aide-de-camp, carrying an assault rifle—speaks.

“Terrorists of Millennium Break. As a result of recent assaults on sovereign holdings in the Bontive Valley and the central transit network of this planet, as well as targeted assaults on her office, the Stargrave has been left with no choice but to arm the stellar combustors entrusted to her in holy power for the preservation of the Divine Principality.”

He takes a shaky breath.

“She has instructed me, in her wisdom, to communicate to you that any attempt to approach the Brecheliant Forest or the stellar combustor units, covertly or otherwise, as well as any attempt on Stargrave Elcessor’s life or liberty, will be met with—will be met with an immediate detonation. Resulting in the destruction of the planet Palisade, the sector designated the Twilight Mirage, and the twenty-three systems within the nearest achievable firebreak.”

“I have also been instructed to inform you that any attempt to seek a loophole, magical or mundane, or otherwise circumvent the terms of this message, will also result in an immediate detonation. The stellar combustors will remain armed until August Righteousness of Jade Kill; Véronique and the Divine Fealty of Rose River; Captain Skelton Knaggs of Carmine Bight; Saint Decario Dicario of Violet Cove; Jesset City of Gray Pond; and Gucci Garantine of Blue Channel turn themselves in to the Bilateral Intercession at the nearest checkpoint. This message will be rebroadcast throughout the Palisade System on the hour and at the half-hour.”

There is a long moment of silence. Then the Stargrave nods imperceptibly; then the aide behind the camera turns it off.

[fluorescentbalaclava]

training season's over (double chapter)

Chapter 7: Gleaming & Chapter 8: FISH n' CHIPS

Summary:

Gleaming

To describe something as good, desirable or brilliant. A particular favourite of the Guards Division. If something is ‘gleaming’ you’re probably onto a good thing.

FISH n' CHIPS acronyms, Fighting In Someone's House and Causing Havoc In People's Streets.

TF141/female reader, König/female reader

spy reader, forced bonding, slow burn, slow build, military inaccuracies, suggestive language, language, canon typical violence, second chance, domestic fluff, enemies to friends, becoming buddies, referenced torture, hurt/comfort, hugs, bar fights, alcohol, cuddles

previous: chapter six "contact"

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Chapter 7

How to tell a guy has a crush on you?

You immediately groan to yourself for googling this at your grown age. There was a time when you dated, you even had a boyfriend before all of this. Still, it feels like a lifetime ago, those thoughts were pushed to the back of your head for a while, but after your encounter with König you need answers. 

God, at what point I got so disconnected with emotions?

Ah, the good old WikiHow.

 1 - He talks to you—a lot.

Uhm...maybe?

2 - He makes eye contact.

Definitely, it’s kinda unsettling sometimes.

3 - He gives you his full attention.

Uh... I mean, yes. But isn't this like the bare minimum?

4 - He laughs at your jokes.

This is ridiculous.

5 - He tries to impress you.

Eh, perhaps.

7 - He lowers his voice when he speaks to you.

The fuck?

You cringe at yourself, before closing your computer and placing it next to you. I mean, maybe it’s not romantically? He clearly cares about you, after all, you don't just go through that for anyone, at least you wouldn't. Or would you? Fuck, this is hard.

König was---is your friend. You began to remember the first time you met him; you fresh joined KorTac, lined up in a row with other new recruits. Upcoming missions required weeks long deployments, and you were informed that some of you were needed for them as there was a shortage of staff in the base, due to the many operations KorTac was contracted to carry out, and that the commanding officers would pick a few rookies to fill the spots.

The first two officers went past you, not even giving you a second glance, just picking the biggest people in the row and calling it a day. The third of them, an American, just looked down at you and with a sarcastic tone said.

"I think you're in the wrong place, doll."

Cunt.

The sight of the fourth one immediately made everyone on the row stand straight. You heard someone beside you whisper "colonel". He was intimidating, tall as fuck, with a black sniper hood over his face and clear paint smeared on the fabric under the holes of his eyes, looking straight out of a Friday the 13th film.

He walked in silence, taking the time to examine each one of the remaining recruits in line. Opposite to the other officers, or at least the ones he talked to, he liked rookies. They were fresh meat, easy to mould to his liking. You saw him looking at you, slightly tilting his head like a curious dog, and you made yourself hold his gaze.

That might have caught his attention, because next thing you knew, he was in front of you. Looking down, probably standing too close on purpose only to make you look up even more, putting your neck in an uncomfortable position. God, it was humiliating.

"Name?" He asked, surprising you as his voice was not as deep as you expected.

"Sage, sir"

"SAS?" He asked, pointing at the Union Jack on your chest.

"No, sir. I was hired before I could try for selection. Corporal, British Army." You explained, and you saw him narrowing his eyes while looking at your face.

"You're coming with me, Maus." He said before simply turning around and walking away. Leaving you a little dumbfounded, as well as your fellow comrades, but soon you followed after.

And that was it, just like that you were under his command until you had the requirements to try and become a sergeant. You never asked him why he exactly did it, you didn’t want him to feel like you were questioning him. He was your superior, after all. Google just told you that "Maus" was a common term of endearment in German.

Those thoughts brought back to that day in Uzlovoye, Russia. Everything felt calm enough— just a rural town, you thought. You really don't remember much; you remember getting into what seemed like an abandoned building and having to collect a computer with vital information inside a bunker. You remember hands behind you, König's voice asking for updates through the comm, the growing anxiety in his voice at the lack of response, the hands squeezing your neck, and then everything went black. The next thing you remember was lifting your head, trying to move to no avail, something hard behind you, the feeling of restraints all around your body, and the disgusting smell of rust and humidity.

A knock on your door distracts you.

“Who is it?”

“Me,” Soap voice says from outside the door.

“Come in.”

He opened the door, finding you resting on your bed already in your pyjamas. One with bunnies this time. Looking around, he quickly realises you have already made yourself quite at home. The room is fully decorated now, except for some boxes piling up in the corner. He could even bet you would have painted the walls as well, if given the chance. You can tell he’s also ready for bed with a shirt from some band you don’t even know and tartan pyjama bottoms.

“Came for a tour?” You said it with a teasing tone from bed, looking up at him.

“Oh, sorry” He answered clearing his throat.

“I'm here to formally invite ye to our monthly film night” Soap said with a playful, elegant tone.

"Monthly? How come I'm first learning about this? I've been here for four months already" Seeing Soap standing on the doorway with a cocky grin.

"Sure, ye can get mad at us for not inviting ye...or ye can be over the moon we are doing it now" He said teasingly.

"Fine...just give me a minute."

And now you were there, in the usual sitting position, with Gaz in the middle, you on one side and Soap on the other. Ghost and Price are sitting on individual sofa at each end of the couch. All of them looked more casual, in their pyjamas as well. Maybe next time you could convince them to do a face mask and turn this into a proper sleepover, like the ones you held with your girlfriends back in high school. You brought a blanket with you to snuggle as well as a cardigan, the base felt like a freezer in the winter.

They did a rock, paper, scissors competition to see who picked the film. Something in you got suspicious when everyone groaned when Price won, even Ghost, but you gave his taste in movies the benefit of the doubt.

Fucking hell...

He picked Gangs of New York, and about half an hour later, the only thing keeping you awake was the feeling of your head bobbling every time you were close to falling asleep.

The only thing keeping Kyle entertained was seeing how hard you were trying to stay awake. From what Johnny told him, you apparently had trouble sleeping, often waking at night to sneak to the kitchen. So, to try and help you, at some point he shifted his shoulder a bit, so when you fell asleep, your head fell against it.

He felt how your breath slowly became even and calm, and you soon were sleeping like a baby. At least she can spare herself from this. As much as he tried to keep focused on the screen, trying to at least follow the storyline, you kept leaning more of your weight against him, seeking his warmth, to which he felt his cheeks warming up.

He took a look around, Ghost was watching the screen, Soap was asleep as well, and Price was watching the picture attentively.

His hand was awkwardly behind you, not sure what to do with it, as your body was pressed on his side. After a few minutes of consideration, he decided that to be comfortable, or so he told himself, to delicately put his arm around your waist, careful to be respectful and gentle. You shifted slightly, and he almost pulled away, but you just snuggled more against him, making him confident enough to cuddle you some more.

He leaned back on the couch, relaxing. It was surprisingly pleasant to rest like that. He could feel the warmth of your body underneath your clothes and how your body gently moved with each breath.

The light of the television illuminated your sleeping face, your muscles relaxed and a peaceful expression, quite the opposite of what he normally sees in you. You looked like a powerhouse when you trained, running through the o course like it was nothing, doing series after series at the gym, and relentlessly hitting whatever thing you had in front of you to train: the bag, mannequins, or Soap. 

In your sleeping thoughts, the heat coming from an unknown source was soothing, the aroma of cologne appearing in your dreams and the softness of the cotton of his shirt against your cheek.

He tried to remember the last time he ever was with someone like this. Probably before he joined the 141. Since he met Price, his life has been dedicated to the task force, his country, and saving the world. He almost forgot how nice this was.

The thoughts started to drift even more.

He imagined coming back to someone after work, lying like that while relaxing after a hard day of work, ordering takeout, watching the telly, and then heading to the bedroom. He didn’t realise until now that he craved that, the intimacy of a partner and the closeness of someone outside his friends. So focused on his job he almost forgot the feeling of a warm body pressed against him, the softness of the fabric of your shirt under his hand, your steady breath...he felt slightly flustered at the thoughts crossing his head, but he allowed himself to enjoy in silence. Just two co-workers resting on an evening—it wasn't a big deal. You looked adorable, he had to admit. And he enjoyed the moments he spent with you off-duty; going for the groceries, watching reality TV, or going for runs in the morning. All the stuff he dreaded or felt like chores of civilian life was now enjoyable. They almost made him forget he was a soldier, that he was in a base, and that you are there because you are a criminal. Of course, he would never tell you any of that.

"Kyle" You whispered groggily, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at you. You couldn’t even open your eyes, the sight bringing a soft smile to his face.

"How long until it ends?" You added it, making him chuckle silently.

"It's almost three hours long, and we're only one hour in, luv" He whispered back, amused.

"For fuck's sake" You muttered in an annoyed groggy tone, curling up on yourself even more while pulling the blanket up, wrapping yourself as you were still leaning against him, going back to sleep.

He could get used to this.

Chapter 8

With a unanimous vote, or so they told you, they decided to take you to the Battleship, a small bar close to the base opened by a retired SAS member mostly for other soldiers to hang out in.

You decided on putting on a long-sleeve shirt with some open buttons on the front that let it hang open enough for your tank top to peek out. As well as just some normal jeans, your tactic boots, and a jacket. You also decided to leave your hair down with clips to prevent it from falling all over your face. And just the tiniest bit of makeup—you were actually excited to see yourself a bit more dolled up than usual. Still casual enough, you think.

When Price sees you, a realization quickly strikes him. Yes, you were a merc, a spy, and you murder people—all crimes he was already too familiar with, and by the looks of it, so were you. But you were only a girl. When you arrived with a soft smile to meet them in the car park, it was like you didn't belong there with them. In other circumstances, you probably would have finished college by now; you would be getting ready to go out with your girlfriends for a drink after a normal day of work and chatter about your lives; you'd have a flat (a new one); and probably a partner. But instead, whatever life choices you made brought you here, going out on a Saturday night with four war criminals, older than you, to a shitty bar on the side of the road. He almost feels pity for you.

Pity he's quickly snapped out of when, apparently, once you got in the Jeep and you were getting comfortable, Soap got in behind you, accidentally pulling your hair with his arm against the seat, to which you winced and almost instinctively threw a very hard push against his shoulder, making him loudly groan but back out.

"Get off my hair," you said, glaring at him, picking up your hair and putting it over one of your shoulders, brushing it together again.

"I'm trying, but it's fuckin' everywhere. Can't ye put on a ponytail or something? Jesus Christ, no need to dislocate my shoulder." He said it with a small wince of pain, rubbing his shoulder.

"Muppets, behave," Price said with a sigh before getting into the driver seat.

It's probably going to be a long night.

He had yet to ask you for what fucked-up reason you ended up enlisting in the first place. But he saw you were uncomfortable enough when he tried to make you call your parents more frequently, and he didn't want to push any further.

He saw on the rearview mirror that Soap and you had made peace, and he was now telling you about how terrible the new recruits were and how they couldn't even handle a few runs around the base, and he was surprised when he heard a “I give them two more weeks” from Ghost, who was sitting next to you.

You seem well enough, considering your situation. He was glad when Kyle came to him, asking for permission to take you along with Soap to the town on a small shopping spree by the sounds of it.

Soap very much enjoyed the little getaway, even if it was for mundane things such as going to the supermarket, the bakery, and a small shop to get your mug. They made you wait in another aisle while Gaz and him debated between getting you the “I’m not short, I’m just more down to earth than most people!” one or the "Don't be a cuntcake" one that had a little drawing of a cupcake. Ultimately, their decision was the right one when you opened the box and cringed at the mug about your height. He really enjoyed getting to taste the macarons you bought. They were a bit overpriced for his liking, but they were tasty, so it was worth it.

"So... thoughts?" Gaz said, walking beside you as you entered the bar.

"It's...not bad," you say slowly, looking around.

It's clearly not your style or your idea of a bar. The decorations look like they were clearly chosen by a retired soldier (in a bad way), and it reeks of cigarettes; you could be smoking two cigars yourself by the amount of smoke you're breathing. Needless to say, it is quite busy, and Ghost and Price walk in front of you, with Soap behind as they go to the bar. Gaz just chuckled, probably sensing that this wasn't really your cup of tea.

"After a drink, it'll grow in you," he says as you start walking to the counter as well.

"Price! It's been a while, mate, what you've been up to?" The man at the counter asked cheerfully, already grabbing a bottle of whisky.

"Very busy months, Arthur. We are catching a break while we can," the captain answered while leaning on the counter.

"He is the owner," Gaz whispered to you.

You glanced at the man, looking him up and down. Checkered shirt, long beard, curly hair, missing a leg. Probably the reason why he retired in the first place.

"Oh, and who's this? Your daughter?" He said it with the same cheerful attitude, noticing you were looking at him and extending his hand to you. You chuckled as you shook his hand, and Gaz and Soap snickered at the comment as well.

"How old do you think I am? No, she's a new recruit," Price said in a mock-offended tone.

"Sa---...eh, Wire" Old habits die hard.

"Sorry, John. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.” He said it with a friendly tone, letting you go and putting a small bowl of peanuts in front of you.

“What can I do for you today?"

"Water, I have to drive."

"Whisky"

"Bourbon"

"Guinness, please"

"Do you have absinthe?"

"I actually do! It's been a while since someone ordered, but we serve it the classic way. Give me a moment." The man behind the counter, seemingly excited by the request, left to search for the necessary tools on the back.

When you looked next to you, your teammates were looking at you as if you had a second head.

"What?" Your tone was already defensive.

"Are you an alcoholic, bonnie?" Soap answered with his own question.

"I like the taste! It’s like liquorice."

"That doesn't help your case, luv," Gaz said teasingly, winning a playful scoff from you.

"Fuck off, it's just to warm up."

After Arthur came back, he made a small show of serving your absinthe, ice-cold water, absinthe spoon, and sugar cube, and you were surprised to even see a Pontarlier reservoir glass. After that, he went to serve the rest of the drinks less excitedly.

Once the first round was finished and Soap gagged after asking to try your drink, the five of you left the counter in favour of an empty table next to the pool, dividing into two teams: Soap and Ghost against Gaz and you. Price opted to be a spectator while smoking a cigar. After Ghost broke the aligned balls, their team had the solid ones, while you were left with stripes.

Alcohol must have really warmed you up because you were laughing more than usual at playful banter and at Soap's stupid dick jokes directed at Ghost regarding balls and pool cues.

Simon grumbled, but deep down, he didn't mind. For a change, it was nice to hear your laugh and to see your cheeks flush as you got hot from laughing and the heat of the place. He could see the men from the other tables ogling you, and although he knew you were perfectly capable of handling them yourself, he couldn't help but shoot glares in their direction when you weren't looking, making them immediately turn around at the sight of a man like Ghost catching them red-handed. A strange feeling of protectiveness was brewing in his chest—something about someone like you in a place like this and surrounded by rough men. It was foolish to think; he was well aware, and he felt almost embarrassed to even entretain the idea. Three months ago, he hated you and everything about you, and he let Price know multiple times that it was a terrible idea to have a criminal on the team.

But now...he had to look away when you bent over the table on your turn; suddenly, the inside of his mask was too warm.

"I need a drink," you announced, bubbly, stretching your back before handing Gaz your pool cue.

"No more absinthe, bonnie, won't hold yer hair while you throw up." Soap said, teasing, making you chuckle.

"I'm getting a coke; don't worry, mom."

"And I'm going to the bathroom," Price announced from the nearby table.

"Does anyone want anything?" You asked as you began to walk away.

"No thanks, luv," Gaz said, as Soap and Ghost only shook their heads as they were studying the table, seeing the best way to proceed as they were losing.

You walked away to the counter, which was across the bar, allowing the three men to keep sight of you.

Soap lowered his upper body over the table, hitting a red ball but missing the pocket, making him curse under his breath. Gaz chuckled at this, and they had a small break while you got back since it was your turn. He saw you waiting for Arthur to be done with another customer when a man he didn't recognize but saw on a nearby table approached you, shamelessly putting his hand around your waist as he stood beside you. The men on his table were watching the scene with a smirk on their faces.

This made him annoyed, and apparently, he wasn't the only one.

"Fucking dogs." Soap said, standing next to Ghost.

"Should we go for her?" Gaz asked, trying his best not to sound too eager. He saw you turn around with a scowl, clearly not happy.

"Lass can take care of herself," Ghost bluntly answered. Although his eyes were betraying him, he was still glued to the scene.

When he turned to look back at you, you were saying something to the man while glaring at him. The men chuckled and said something back, and you rolled your eyes. Your face went back to face the front. Maybe you didn't mind?

Then he saw how the man's hand slithered down your back, and he felt his blood boiling. But before his hand could reach its destination, a quick blow from your elbow harshly met its own destination, connecting with the man's nose. Not only making him pull his hand away but making him fall back with a whine of pain, and now everyone’s eyes were on the scene.

"You fucking whore!" The man said loudly before he got up, clearly aggressive. But you weren't backing up, either.

"Fuck," Gaz said before he quickly hurried up to the scene, followed by Soap.

As they arrived, Gaz got in between the man and you, and Soap quickly held you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist. The man's friends are also holding him back, muttering stuff along the lines of “it’s not worth it” or “it’s just a chick.”

"Put your fucking bitch on a leash," he said angrily, blood pouring from his nose. Ah, a yank.

"Haud yer wheesht," Soap barked at him from behind you, still holding you as you tried to break free from his arms.

"I’ll chop your hands off." Not even you knew you had so much pent-up anger inside you, probably looking for the right situation to explode. Johnny was struggling more than he would like behind you, feeling like he was trying to hold back a bull. Bloody hell, maybe I should do more weightlifting.

"The fuck is your problem, mate?" Gaz through gritted teeth, but before the man could scream back, you were approached by Ghost. The man's eyes widened, and he stayed quiet, all the blood draining from his face.

"L-Lieutenant." He said this while standing straight, trying to sloppily clean the blood off his face with his hand.

"You are?" Ghost asked.

"Shadow Company, sir." You heard Soap muttering 'of course' under his breath, still holding you back.

"T-This girl broke my nose!" He said, pointing at you, making your efforts to break free from Soap's grip increased.

"Yer awfy crabbit, mo leannan," Soap whispered to you, not letting you go, trying to get you to calm down.

"Only because you tried to touch her ass like a fucking mutt in heat," Ghost answered bitterly, looking down at the man who looked as if he wanted the earth to swallow him.

"What’s the problem here?" Price approached the situation, fresh from the bathroom. At the sight of the captain, the man looked like he wanted to throw up.

"Graves men were getting handsy with the lass," Gaz explained, and he heard you groan in annoyance behind him.

"I can take care of him myself." You said through gritted teeth.

The same alcohol that made you giggle like a teenager is now making you thirsty for blood, as well as annoyed that they felt the need to handle the situation themselves, like you weren't an adult and a trained killing machine, just like them. All the frustration, sadness, and anger that you obediently swallowed in the first months of your new life, not wanting to worsen your already poor situation, is now coming back to bite you in the ass. You wanted to unleash every little one of your frustrations on the man in front of you.

"Mo chridhe, calm down," Soap said again. Gentle but struggling, you were using all your force to get out of his embrace.

"LT, help." He said in a strained voice as he kept trying to lock you in his arms, to which Simon rolled his eyes, but he eventually approached you. With ease, he wrapped his arm around your waist and threw you over his shoulder.

"Fucking hell, Simon," you said, now with a view of the 'Lieutenant Riley' written on his back.

"Some fresh air will do you good, flower." He said as he walked out of the bar carrying you.

This was a rather embarrassing situation, everyone was watching curiously. It was not the first time you were carried out of the bar, and certainly not your first fight. Probably not the last, either. You deep down knew that the gossip of the new girl getting into a fight and being carried away by her lieutenant was going to spread like wildfire on the base.

But, your head felt slightly woozy making you accept your fate as fresh air was starting to sound very nice.

"Sorry, Arthur," Price said with an apologetic look, looking at the bartender.

"Don't worry, John; good to see the new recruits still have some fire on them." He was hinting at the direction in which you disappeared.

"And you," Price said, turning around to the other men again. The main culprit is now holding a napkin against his nose, sitting down like a wet dog. John had a severe look on his face, making the men look more miserable. "Name. Now."

You sat in the Jeep with the door open. Ghost was standing in front of you, his mask lifted as he smoked a cigarette. You notice the blonde stubble; the concept of someone as big and intimidating as him being a blonde named Simon was quite funny, but right now you tried to focus on deep breaths, trying to calm your own anger down.

After a few minutes, you saw the Shadow Company men being pushed out of the bar by Gaz and Soap, followed by Price, who seemed to be on the phone. Your anger, far from diffusing, spikes again. You began to stand up again.

"Let them handle it." He says it in a calm tone, putting his free hand on your shoulder and making you sit again.

"I can handle it myself. My ass is the one involved, not yours," you answer, glaring up at him.

"I know you can, and as much as I would enjoy seeing you beat the shit out of them, you don't have to." He says, voice husky but surprisingly gently, looking down at you. You arched your brow at his words, and he decided to elaborate some more.

"Price is most likely calling Graves; they'll probably get a written reprimand, extra shit to do, and they will be banned from our sector on the base."

"I don't need Price to rat them out for me; I can take care of it."

"My point is that you don't have to. Listen: Despite everything, you are still on thin ice, flower. That thing is not a bracelet." He was gesturing to your ankle monitor.

"We don't give a shit if you kill them; in other circumstances, I would have gladly help you. Shadows are cunts, and they all act like mutts after a bone. But getting into a fight with people who are guests in our base is not a good view for the higher-ups, and Laswell and the Captain can only do so much in your defence." You listened attentively, his words making sense, but you still couldn't help but feel annoyed as you saw the man and his friends being escorted to their car, Price still on his call.

"Besides, you don't have to do it all yourself, you know?" He said that, and you directed your glance back to him.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to take care of yourself alone. We are a team; we take care of each other." You can't help but show a hint of surprise on your face.

"Are we?"

"Yes."

After almost four months...the bastard.

A smile slipped from your lips, and he kept looking down at you. In another context, he would be pissed at giving in, but he let you savour your victory, you deserved it.

The moment was broken as Price approached.

"Back to base, muppets," he said, opening the driver door, not before watching the car of the members of the Shadow Company leave the car park.

Soap came behind him to ruffle your hair, making you groan playfully.

"You okay, bonnie?" He asked warmly.

Gaz also arrived behind him, handing you your forgotten jacket and a can of Coke he bought you.

"Thanks, Kyle...yeah, I'm fine. Fuck... I’m sorry." A hint of embarrassment got to you as you rubbed your temples.

“None of that, bonnie. Anyone would have done the same. Not me, though; I would have kicked his balls.” Soap said, shrugging, making you chuckle.

“Not for punching him. For ruining the night.”

“Sweetheart, everything is fine. I talked to Shepherd; he’ll chew Graves ear off. For now, they’ll enjoy cleaning the showers with a toothbrush, and they’re banned from the mess hall and the gym, so you won’t see them.” You listened to Price, and you looked back at Ghost, who was giving you an ‘I told you so’ glance.

“Arthur said that you'd get a free drink next time.” Gaz said, also trying to lighten your mood.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, trying to avoid their gazes. You felt vulnerable, accepting help; it felt both terrible and surprisingly heart-warming.

The way back was actually nice, with Price telling a story from when he was a private and they had a few drinks while camping. One of them got so drunk that they made him believe there were lions in that zone, and he was scared shitless until he sober up enough to realise, they were in the German countryside.

The stories were a bit silly, but the way they were telling them was both endearing and entertaining. There was a fuzzy feeling in your stomach, and your cheeks hurt a bit because you were not accustomed to laughing and smiling this much.

next chapter: coming soon!

Thank you to the lovely people following this! <3: @no-lessthan3 , @blush-haze , @eustassh , @valkyrieunknown

if you like it leave me some kudos or suggestions on ao3! <3

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where honesty is always the best policy. Except when it isn't?

Or

Part One of the Twenty Second installment of the Skz!pack Prequel Series.

A/N: We're back, bitches. Buckle up.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, OT8, skz!pack, skz!abo, poly!skz, omegaverse, skz x you, skz x reader, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, yang jeongin, kim seungmin, y/n, skz angst, skz fluff, skz drabble, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, Skz!pack prequel, pack!prequel, prequel series

Genre: Angst, Light Fluff

Warning: Past Trauma, Fear of Thunderstorms

Title: Lie To Me; Part I

“So we can all agree that we’re struggling with this, yeah?” Chan asks, tapping his fingers along his glass in a sort of anxious motion, his expression serious. 

You can see the weight on his shoulders from across the table.

Minho takes a sip of his own drink and replies back casually, “Not me. I’m fine.” 

Changbin immediately scoffs and you snort, narrowing your gaze on the alpha leaning against the counter, your voice sharp as you retort, “You’re so full of shit. We all know you’re on edge. You and Changbin haven’t been at each other’s throats this much since we started dating.” 

Minho shrugs, but doesn’t offer a defensive quip in return, and that tells you all you need to know. 

He’s notorious for trying to act like shit doesn’t bother him, stubborn as a mule when it comes to keeping things ‘normal,’ but you know him too well by now, you all do. 

He’s just as uneasy as the rest of you. 

Changbin drums his fingers on the kitchen table, looking slightly annoyed. “It’s such bullshit that it’s even a thing in the first place.” He sighs, reaching up to run his hand once again through his already disheveled hair, and when he continues, his voice is softer. “But I can’t just keep ignoring him, you know? I’m going to go fucking crazy.” 

You and Chan nod in agreement, in understanding, and you find Changbin’s fingers under the table, wrapping them in the safety of your own and giving him a squeeze. 

“Trust me. Nobody gets it more, Binnie.” 

Minho sets his empty glass in the sink and approaches the table, leaning his hip beside Chan as he moves his piercing gaze between the three of you, lips pulled into a thin, stern line, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Moping about it isn’t going to do anything. We need to do something. Decisions have to be made.” 

Changbin scoffs almost tiredly from beside you. “So what, we just, cut him off? Forbid him from being around?” He narrows a glare on Minho. “That’s gonna fucking hurt a lot of people we care about, Minho.” 

Minho remains unyielding, holding the other alpha’s gaze. “If that’s what we have to do, at least until he presents, than yes.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Chan holds out his hands between the two, as if worried one of them is going to leap over the table and go at it right here in the kitchen. 

With how on edge everyone currently is, they just might. 

He blows out a long, controlled breath through his nose, and sits back in his chair, still eyeing the two of them warily before he says firmly, “That’s not what anyone’s suggesting, Bin, okay? We just need to figure some shit out.” 

 “Yeah.” You nod seriously, your fingers still gripping a little bit tighter than necessary around Changbin’s forearm, his skin warm and flushed beneath your hold. You glance between the two of them, softening slightly. “I know he’s become an important part of our lives, of the pack’s lives, and we’re not trying to sever that or undermine it in any way. Minho-” You glance up at the other alpha, his expression unreadable. “-you can try to deny it all you want, but we know you have a soft spot for the kid. You’re not as impenetrable as you lead everyone to believe.” 

Minho’s chest rises and falls with a breath, and he looks away from your gaze. 

Chan sighs heavily. “So what the fuck do we do?” 

“Our alphas don’t like him around because he’s unpresented.” You muse, thinking hard, playing with the condensation on your empty glass as you go over options silently in your head. “Because of that factor, there’s no way to establish set pack order, too many uncertain variables, and alphas aren’t recognized for their love of the unknown.” 

Chan nods thoughtfully, steepling his fingers in front of his chin. “Right. But everyone else is okay with things being up in the air for now.” 

“So maybe.” Changbin cocks his head, eyes lighting up with an idea. “Instead of removing the kid from the equation until he presents, we remove ourselves.” 

“It’s gonna fucking suck.” You admit, glancing between them all. “But it might have to be done.” 

Minho scoffs beneath his breath, his fingers gripping the back of Chan’s chair until they turn white. “So what, we just make excuses every time the kid’s around?” 

“Basically.” Changbin stands up, dropping his used glass into the sink next to Minho’s, before he leans against the counter and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “We avoid interactions that involve him until further notice.” 

“Do we tell them?” Chan asks suddenly, eyes skimming over you all, looking for reactions. “The rest of the pack, I mean.” 

Changbin shakes his head, and you immediately reply, “No. Because word will get back somehow, and that’ll just make him feel worse about the fact that he’s not presented. And I’m sure he gets enough shit from the freshman at the dorms over that already. I’m not gonna add to that.” 

Chan nods in understanding, and Minho pops his jaw in open annoyance. 

“Keeping secrets is gonna fuck us over in the end, you know.” 

“You have a better idea?” Changbin challenges, as they glare each other down, and the tension in the room rises noticeably once more. 

“Please, try me right now, meathead, I dare you.” 

Chan sighs tiredly, and you stand from the table, glaring back and forth between the two tense alphas. 

Wisteria blooms warningly in the small kitchen. 

“Fucking knock it off, will you? This situation sucks enough already as it is. We don’t need the two of you coming to blows in the middle of the kitchen like two grade school kids who can’t control their temper tantrums.” 

Changbin drops his gaze, but Minho remains rigid beside you. 

You turn to him. 

“Min.” You lower your voice, your words firm. “It won’t be forever. And none of us are thrilled about this, but we’ve gotta think of the pack.” 

He flicks his dark eyes to you, but says nothing. 

A calming wave of petrichor replaces your scent in the air around you, and Chan’s fingers find Minho’s on the back of his chair as he says quietly, “C’mon, Min. It’s not us against you here. We’re on your side. Drop the hackles please?” 

Minho’s shoulders relax a margin of an inch, and his chest heaves with a deep breath, but he doesn’t look like he immediately wants to murder Changbin anymore, so you guess that’s as good as an answer for now. 

Footsteps sound, and Hyunjin appears in the doorway, features disgruntled, and lemony scent unusually bitter, as he quickly surveys the four of you and then pushes past to the fridge without another glance. 

“I wasn’t aware there was a meeting of the big bad wolves scheduled for this morning in the middle of my fucking kitchen.” 

Changbin cuts his gaze to the clearly annoyed omega sharply, watching with narrowed eyes as Hyunjin violently pours himself a glass of orange juice, slamming the fridge door shut for emphasis. 

“Who pissed in your cheerios?” 

Hyunjin levels the alpha with a glare, so unlike his usual self, and shakes his head, already headed for the door. 

“Forget it. I have a headache. Don’t let me interrupt.” 

He disappears without another word, and Changbin glances to the three of you in open disbelief. 

You shrug, just as lost as he is. “Hangover?” 

Changbin clenches his jaw, a muscle ticking beneath the tan, stretched skin. 

At the table, Chan sighs deeply. 

“Okay, so we might have to avoid two people for the time being.” 

*******

Hyunjin hasn’t said a word to you since your lab started twenty minutes ago. 

He took his seat in silence, he pulled out his supplies in silence, and now he’s taking notes-in silence. 

You give him another sidelong glance-probably the fiftieth in five minutes-and he sighs, voice irritated, but pen still writing, as he snaps out without looking up, “Stop staring at me.” 

You clear your throat and try to focus on your own paper. 

But when, in five minutes, your pen stalls in scratching out notes, and you find yourself back to staring at his side profile, lingering for a little longer than necessary, you know it’s no use. 

Hyunjin’s body tenses, his fingers whitening around his pen, as if he can feel your eyes on him once again, but before he can say anything a second time, you blurt out, “Are you okay?” 

His pen trails to a stop. 

And then he says, “No.” 

And goes back to jotting down notes. 

You fiddle with your own pen for a minute, warring over whether you should push him on this, the scent of lemons bitter in your nose, and then finally you ask, softer this time, “What’s wrong, Hyunjin?” 

His pen comes to another halt, and he lets out an annoyed huff of air from his nose, turning to face you as he arches a brow, anger flickering across his dark eyes. 

“You mean, besides the impromptu meeting of the Big Bad Wolf Brigade in my kitchen this morning?” 

You hold his gaze, not backing down in the face of his obvious agitation, and he sighs again, reaching up to rake a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots slightly, before he fires back with, “I don’t know, okay? I just feel-” He shrugs helplessly, throwing his pen down on the half finished page of notes in disgust. “-off.” 

You study him for another long moment, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, and then ask again, “Are you sick?” 

Hyunjin shakes his head jerkily. “No. I just-” He rubs at his temples with long fingers. “-don’t feel like myself.” 

“Okay.” You nod once, picking up your own pen once more and turning back to your notes, feeling slightly better now that he’s answered you. You scratch out another sentence before you glance sidelong at him. “Well, let me know if I can help, yeah?” 

Hyunjin stares down at the table, making no move to pick back up his own writing utensil, as the silence stretches between the two of you. 

Finally, he heaves another sigh and reaches for the discarded pen. 

He doesn’t look at you as he says defeatedly, “Movie night.” 

You hum beneath your breath, not looking up from your notebook, but your wolf chuffs in approval at the omega’s concession, before you repeat back in confirmation with a nod, “Movie night.” 

*******

“You are literally so fucking pretty.” 

Hyunjin scoffs at your words, but you don’t miss the slightly pink hue to his cheeks as he glances up at you where you play with his hair from his spot in the omega dorm’s large, communal tub. 

“Shut up.” 

“No, seriously.” You protest, letting the long, soft strands of his hair sift through your fingers, admiring the way the dark color shines in the soft light. 

“I know I’m pretty.” Hyunjin remarks flippantly, eyes blinking up at you innocently. He gives you a lopsided smirk. “How else do you think I bagged all you dumb alphas?” 

You lean down and flick some of the warm, scented bath water up into his face in retaliation and he splutters dramatically in response. 

“You’re right, because it’s definitely not your personality.” 

The omega glares at you halfheartedly, and you laugh, leaning over him to reach for the shampoo you had brought with you, pouring a dime sized portion of the sweet smelling soap into the palm of your hand. 

You begin to work the shampoo through Hyunjin’s hair, working it into a lather, your fingers scratching along his scalp, and he relaxes back into the touch, even though he’s still clearly pouting, arms folded across his chest. 

You lean over to catch his gaze, and he sticks his tongue out at you. 

“You have a great ass though.” You offer as a sort of olive branch, and Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but you see some of the dramatic offense from earlier fade from his expression at your words. 

“I know that. Obviously.” 

You hide a smile and go back to shampooing his hair. 

There is silence for several long minutes, your fingers working through Hyunjin’s hair over and over, as the omega grows more and more relaxed beneath your touch, sinking into the cooling water of the bath, and then finally, he says, “I’m sorry. About earlier.” 

“It’s fine.” You reply back easily, because it is, and then hum under your breath as you take your hands from his head, gesturing for him to hand you the cup resting on the side of the tub, “Time to rinse.” 

Hyunjin leans his head back, closing his eyes, and you rinse his freshly shampooed hair clean of all the suds, watching as the water turns clear, before you set the cup back in its spot. 

It takes him another moment to open his eyes, his head still leaned back on the lip of the tub in front of you, staring up at you from his reclined position with an unreadable look on his face. 

It’s your turn to stick your tongue out as you ask, “What?” 

He furrows his brow and shakes his head, sitting up again as he leans forward in the perfumed bath water. 

“Nothing, okay? I’m just being weird. Forget it.” 

You shift around the edge of the tub so you can meet his gaze again, expression going firm as you flick more water in his direction. “Nuh uh. That’s not gonna fly. Spill.” 

Hyunjin sighs-heavy and dramatic-and rolls his eyes heavenward, before he says with clear, awkward resignation, “I guess I’m kind of in love with you or whatever.” You giggle, and Hyunjin slides his gaze to you, lips pulled into a clear pout, eyes wide and dark. 

“What the fuck, noona? Is this how you responded to Changbin spilling his guts too?” 

“Nah.” You shake your head, still laughing, warm head to toe, as you lean forward and pull the plug on the now lukewarm bath water. “But I kinda said it first in that situation, so.” 

Hyunjin is still staring at you, wet hair plastered to his shoulders, and you decide to have mercy on him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips before you stand to retrieve the towel. 

You give him a smile over your shoulder. 

“Baby, I’ve been in love with you since the moment you sat down beside me and introduced yourself during our first lab freshman year. And that’s never gonna change.” You fling the towel at him, holding out your hand to pull him up. “Now come on, let’s go watch a movie.” 

***************

Hyunjin is still grumbling-but dry and fully clothed-when you make it back to his apartment. 

“Fuck, I have a headache.” He complains, slumping down on the pile of blankets creating a makeshift nest on the couch. 

You stare at him for a moment, your wolf whining that something is off, but shaking your head, you give him an easy smile and head for his bathroom, calling over your shoulder, “I’ll get you some painkillers. Queue up the movie.” 

You’re digging through Hyunjin’s messy bathroom cabinets when you hear a knock at the door, some shuffling, and then the low tones of Hyunjin’s voice talking to someone. 

You’re sure it’s just one of the pack Hyunjin probably forgot to tell you he invited over to join in on movie night.

You perk your ears in interest, though you haven’t caught a scent yet, and head back to the living room, pain killers held triumphantly aloft in hand. 

“I found the-” 

Everything inside of you freezes, your words dying off, as you catch sight of a head of shockingly red hair peeking over the top of Hyunjin’s couch. 

Jeongin. 

“Oh, hey, noona!” Jeongin turns at your entrance, face split with a smile, eyes screwed tight, and it takes everything in you to not turn and run. 

Because while the wolf part of you is growling in unsure warning-antsy and nervous-the human part of you is very much begging for you to close the distance and take the red headed boy in your arms, pressing your nose to his hair and cuddling his warmth. 

It’s a war you’re not entirely sure can be won. 

“Oh. Hey.” You stutter out, carefully skirting around the couch where Jeongin currently sits, your eyes never leaving his face. 

You shove the painkillers into Hyunjin’s hand without really looking, and he pauses in picking a movie, looking at you sharply, and you’re sure he can smell the way your scent has suddenly gone haywire. 

“What-” The omega starts to ask, but before he can, you stumble over yourself, suddenly desperate to get out of there.

“I didn’t know you were coming, Innie.” You force a smile that you don’t feel, the words from this morning ringing loudly in your head, your blood whooshing in your ears. 

We remove ourselves. 

Hyunjin is staring at you like he knows something is wrong, but can’t quite figure out what. 

“Yeah, I invited him.” He finally says, and Jeongin’s smile has disappeared off his face. “Is that okay?” 

“Sure, sure.” You wave your hand, not looking at either of them, shoving your feet into your shoes with clumsy, numb fingers. 

Your wolf is snarling now, teeth bared, warning you not to leave your omega alone with an unpresented outsider. 

Your scent is sickly thick in your own nose as you make a dive for your keys and fumble with the doorknob. 

“I just forgot, I have something tonight. I’ll see you guys later, okay? Another movie night. Rain check. Have fun though.” 

Hyunjin’s lips have pursed into a thin line, and Jeongin looks openly hurt-large eyes wide and dark-but you force yourself to ignore them both, and not waiting for a reply, hurry out the door. 

You breathe easier-out of the apartment, away from the two boys-and as you take the steps two at a time down to the lobby and shove open the doors of the omega dorm, you take in a deep, gasping inhale, slowly letting it out as you head off down the sidewalk, away from the building. 

Your heart slows in your ears as you walk aimlessly, no real destination in mind, and your breathing grows less ragged, but your wolf is still irritatingly antsy. 

The look on Jeongin’s face-

You shake your head violently, pushing that thought from your mind, and urge yourself into a sprint, taking the sidewalk that leads down to the quad and the woods without really thinking about it. 

It’s nice, to get your blood pumping and the wind in your ears, your feet slapping the pavement in an easy rhythm, and by the time you reach the edge of the forest that borders campus, you’re breathing hard again, but from exertion this time. 

Bending over, resting your hands on your knees to catch your breath, you feel your phone chime in your pocket. 

You bite your lip, toying with the idea of not looking at it all, but finally pull it from your back pocket and glance at the lit up lock screen. 

Hyunjin. 

You blow out the breath you’ve been holding-long and slow through your nose-and without reading the text, stuff your phone back once more into the safety of your pocket. 

You’ll apologize and explain later. 

Right now, you just need to clear your head. 

You start jogging again, dodging trees and low hanging branches, and fall into a nice rhythm. 

It doesn’t matter where you’re going right now-the cool, dark air of the woods feels good against your heated skin, and the slight fog that always clings to the ground here, regardless of weather or time of day, slithers around your shoes like an old friend welcoming you home. 

You’ve maybe been running for fifteen minutes when the first drop of rain hits your face, sliding down the bridge of your nose and dripping off your chin. 

You slide to a stop, glancing up at the sky through narrowed eyes, and the dark gathering of puffy clouds above your head signals more rain is about to hit any second. 

Dammit. 

You heave a sigh, and turn back the way you came. 

The slight misting of rain turns to a torrential downpour before you even reach the edge of the trees, and when a sharp crack of bright lightning lights up the sky above you, the thunder roaring behind dangerously close overhead, you dive beneath the safety of a nearby river bank without even thinking. 

Your heart is pounding once more in your ears, and you swallow hard, mouth and throat suddenly very dry. 

Your blood roars, pounding in your head into the start of a headache, and you squeeze your eyes shut as another flash of lightning turns the trees around you into twisted, distorted shapes in the quickly dwindling light. 

You fist your hands into the pocket of your hoodie and count to ten in your head, lips trembling and teeth chattering as another round of thunder shakes the ground beneath you. 

You know the signs. You’re dangerously close to a panic attack. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You swear in a constant, vehement stream beneath your breath, tucking your dirty sneakers beneath you as you curl your legs protectively to your chest. 

Resting your forehead on your knees, you try to take deep, slow breaths, and force yourself to picture Chan, the scent of petrichor filling your nostrils coming from the alpha you love and feel safe with, but his influence can only do so much against the onslaught of the storm roaring around you. 

It’s one thing to feel comfortable around another alpha’s scent, it’s another thing entirely to forget everything in your life that has happened in the rain. 

Another clap of thunder, and you’re huddling into yourself, slapping your hands frantically over your ears. 

The wetness on your cheeks is tears, not rain. 

Just like before. 

‘You don’t have to go!’ Your fingers are grabbing the hem of his coat, and though he doesn’t look at you, he stops, which gives you hope. 

‘I do.’ 

‘No!’ You cry out, and your ten year old voice is high and shrill, a loud boom of thunder drowning out your wails. ‘Please don’t go. Don’t go.’ 

Your cries turn into whimpers, and he still doesn’t turn. 

Instead, he shakes his coat free from your fingers and opens the car door. 

‘Please.’ You sob, and he shakes his head, before disappearing into the car. 

Your mother pulls you back-drenched and shaking and crying-into the safety of the house, and he drives out of sight. 

Your fingers find your phone in your pocket somehow, and you manage to unlock it, squinting against the bright screen, your hands shaking so badly that you’re not even sure you can type, let alone find your contacts. 

You’re soaked through, even hiding under the minimal cover of the embankment, and you’re shivering so hard your teeth feel like they’re going to chatter right out of your head. 

You curse yourself for not checking the weather before your little spontaneous run. 

The rain dripping from overhead makes your phone screen slick, and you swear in frustration as after several fruitless attempts to type, it slips from your fingers, sinking into the mud at your feet. 

“Fuck!” You scream back at the whipping wind, and pouring rain, and bright flashes of lightning and terrifying thunder. 

Your fingers curl into fists at your side, and you can’t hold back the sob that wrenches free from your throat. 

No one knew where you went after you left Hyunjin’s. You hadn’t even bothered to answer his text. 

You were alone, and you’d just have to wait out the storm. 

You shove yourself as far back against the embankment as you can, huddled into the fetal position, and screw your eyes shut, trying to think of something, anything, other than the sounds of the storm swirling around you, the feel of your heart pounding wildly within the walls of your chest. 

“Breathe.” You tell yourself, but your voice wobbles, and your words tremble, and you’re crying again. 

Crying, crying, crying. 

‘Why are you crying?’ He asks with such cold haughtiness that you stop for a moment and stare at him, mouth agape. 

‘Why am I crying?’ You repeat back in disbelief, and you force some of the wobble from your voice as you straighten, glaring him down. ‘Why the fuck would I not be crying? I love you!’ 

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and the water dripping from the dark strands of his hair trace their way across his high cheekbones, the expensive, crisp lines of his suit. 

‘It never would have worked anyway.’ He stares at you, sharp, angry, and it’s a far cry from the soft, affectionate man you thought you knew. He takes a menacing step toward you, and you take one back. “Alphas don’t belong with other alphas, (Y/N). You fucking know that. Regardless of whatever shit your radical equality college courses are brainwashing you into thinking.” 

You open your mouth to respond, but he’s holding up a hand, silencing you as easily as if he’d just slapped you. 

Lightning crackles over head, illuminating the hard expression on his face, the hurt on your own. 

‘My parents have found me a suitable match-an accomplished omega from a good family. I’m sorry, (Y/N).’ He’s not. You know he’s not. 

So you stand in the rain, and you watch him get into his fancy car and drive away, leaving you behind. 

You’re not sure how long you’re crouched there, hidden in on yourself beneath the fake safety the embankment at your back affords, but it feels like years have passed when you feel someone shake you, and your name sounds from far away, like someone is calling out from underwater. 

“(Y/N)!”

You force yourself to open your eyes, and the face swimming before you slowly comes into view. 

The downturned lips, the worried expression in the dark, serious eyes, the panicked, furrowed posture of the brow. 

Chan shakes you again, not as violently this time, and his mouth forms words, but it takes a moment for your brain to catch up and decipher them. 

“-going to get you warm. Can you walk?” 

Every inch of your body feels like it’s been soaked in cold, wet concrete-your limbs numb, your lips trembling-and so you shake your head tiredly, slowly. 

Everything feels too heavy. 

Chan glances over at someone, and it’s then that you notice he’s not alone, Minho and Changbin crouched at either shoulder, their expressions of open worry mirroring his own. 

“What were you fucking thinking?” Changbin leans around Chan to frantically rub at your upper arms, trying to spark some warmth back in your skin as you continue to shiver, wet clothing weighing down your useless limbs. 

You want to shrug, want to tease and tell him ‘oh, you know, just thought I’d go running in a rain storm and catch hypothermia and maybe die, and oh! I saw Jeongin today. Probably ruined that relationship indefinitely.’ but instead, you can barely shake your head in response, lips moving weakly, but no sound coming out. 

Fuck, you’re cold. 

“We need to go.” Minho tells Chan and Changbin seriously, and they nod in response, Chan carefully pulling you out from under the embankment and settling you into his arms, Changbin throwing his jacket over you as he stands, tucking it around your violently shaking body. 

Minho keeps pace beside Chan as he carries you through the forest, and he reaches out to brush a hand down your cheek, his skin pleasantly warm, so much so that you whine and seek after it even when he pulls back with a tight smile. 

“Blue’s not your color, sweetheart. We need to take care of that.” 

You snuggle into the warmth of Chan’s chest, like a moth chasing a flame, and you note offhandedly, fuzzily from somewhere far away, that the rain has stopped, dripping slowly and rhythmically from the trees overhead. 

Changbin jogs ahead, and you realize, at the sound of an engine turning over, that they’ve brought Chan’s car. 

Your mind immediately goes to the delicious thought of the heater, your skin prickling painfully at the idea. 

Everything is slowly coming back to life. 

You’re no longer numb, but maybe you’d prefer that, because now, now everything just fucking hurts. 

Minho and Chan sandwich you between their warmth in the backseat, and Changbin drives like his ass is on fire straight back to the alpha dorms. 

You don’t even protest when they carry you up the stairs and into your apartment, Changbin rustling through your closet to find any and all blankets you own, piling them on top of your still shaking body, one after the other. 

“Fuck, baby girl.” He mutters, crouching down in front of you where you lay on the couch, teeth still chattering loudly. He tugs a blanket up and tucks it beneath your chin, concern etched across his face. “You’re still fucking freezing.” 

“It’s probably the shock.” Chan replies worriedly, pacing behind Changbin, his lower lip pulled between his teeth. 

If you weren’t currently unsure of whether or not you could speak, you would have congratulated him on his astute, and very scientific, correct conclusion. 

Minho stares at you, hands on his hips, and then he whips into action. 

“Go turn on the shower. Make it as hot as you think she can stand.” He motions to Chan, and the other alpha disappears down the hallway without another word. “Changbin.” He glances at the alpha crouched beside you, feeling your forehead with his large, warm palm. “Help me get her undressed.” 

In any other situation, Changbin probably would have made a suggestive joke about Minho’s choice of words, but now, he just silently helps you sit up, propped up against his chest, as Minho removes all the blankets and begins taking off your clothes slowly, starting with your muddy, wet sneakers. 

By the time he’s laid you bare, there is a drenched, heavy pile of dark clothing sitting on the living room floor, and your shuddering has resumed violently, goosebumps pricking over every inch of your exposed skin. 

Changbin rubs his warm palms up and down the skin of your arms as your teeth chatter, and Minho grunts, standing up and motioning with his head to Chan, who’s reappeared in the mouth of the hallway. 

“Let’s go.” 

Changbin picks you up easily without another word from Minho, and even in your partially out of it state, you pick up on the way their scents sour with worry, sharp and acrid on every inhale. 

You don’t like it, and you try to say as much, but only a whimper comes out, and Changbin ups his pace to the bathroom. 

The air inside the little room is pleasantly humid and warm thanks to the already running shower, and you start to feel your muscles prickle to life painfully once more as the blood starts to return to them in response to the change in temperature. 

It’s still not enough though, and your jaw is starting to ache from all the shivering. 

Changbin carefully deposits you in the shower, and you hold onto the wall desperately as the support of his arms leaves, willing your legs to keep you standing, your entire body still quivering, even under the unending stream of the hot water from overhead. 

Changbin leans inside the shower once more, Chan and Minho watching you warily from over his shoulder, and places his palm on your bare skin. 

His hand is warm, and you desperately seek after the contact as he pulls back and swears under his breath. 

“Fuck.” He glances at the other two alphas, and the bitter scent of smoke burns your lungs, making your throat even drier than before. “It’s not enough. She’s still chilled.” 

Without a word, Chan shucks off his sweatshirt and drops it to the bathroom floor, pushing past Changbin to step into the shower, pulling you into the warmth of his bare chest, the water instantly drenching the sweatpants he still wears without a thought. 

You want to tease him, tell him you’d never thought of showering with your clothes on before, but the warm, persistent heat of his body against your own, slowly thawing your bones, is enough to keep you silent, snuggling in more against him instead. 

You glance up at him, the water dripping from his curls and down his nose, as he motions to the other two alphas with a jerk of his chin. 

“Get in. C’mon. The more body heat, the better.” 

Changbin and Minho take off their own sweaters, leaving them bare chested, and squeeze into the shower beside the two of you. 

It’s a tiny shower, and it’s not made for four bodies, but they make it work, squishing you between them, their arms linked in a close circle around you, and slowly but surely, the combination of all of their alpha body heat-higher temperature than betas or omegas-starts to warm you from the inside out. 

Changbin smooths a hand over your wet hair, and his face grows slightly less pinched as he nods over your head to Minho and Chan. 

“She’s getting warmer.” 

Your brain is mush, warmed between your three alpha mates, and the smell of their combined scents-slowly returning to normal now that they know you’re not dying-is like a balm, washing over you and making your eyes instantly heavy. 

You sigh and let yourself sag in Chan’s hold, content they’ll hold you up. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose y’know.” You finally say, words slurred and heavy with exhaustion, and you feel them all heave a collective sigh of relief at your first coherent words since they found you. 

“What, trying to get yourself killed and fuck us over with worry?” Minho chuckles with no humor and his words are sharp and dry, but his tender, affectionate fingers on your hip soften the searing tone to his response. 

You nod against Chan’s chest, and his arms tighten around you in response. 

“Yeah, I-” You swallow, desperately needing a drink now that your body is going back to normal, and avoid their gazes, glancing down to study the way Changbin’s rough knuckles look covering Chan’s hand splayed protectively across your bare stomach. 

Honesty is the best policy right? 

“-didn’t know it was supposed to storm.” You finish lamely, because fuck honesty right now, you don’t think you can handle thinking about the betrayal on Jeongin’s face, the disappointment on Hyunjin’s. 

“I’m sorry.” Chan murmurs beneath his breath, pressing a soft kiss to your upturned forehead. 

You glance at him in surprise, slowly regaining cognitive abilities. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“We should have looked for you sooner.” He replies tightly, eye’s dark and lips pinched. He shakes his head slightly. “Hyunjin said he was worried about you when you left his place, but we just thought you’d gone for a run, needed some time, and then it started to rain-” 

You shrug, and try to make your tone light. “It’s not your fault I’m terrified of thunderstorms.” 

“Yeah, but it is our job to look out for you.” Changbin says resolutely, placing a finger beneath your chin and making you look up at him. 

His expression softens slightly as he stares down at you, and suddenly, you feel a lot more warm than before. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper out, because suddenly, you don’t know what else to say.

Minho shifts behind you, leaning his cheek onto your drenched hair, and you feel his sigh against your back, his breath brushing across your cheek. 

“Why are you apologizing, sweetheart?” 

You glance down at your hands covering theirs, resting around your waist, and you experimentally flex your fingers, the blood flow restored. 

Physically, you feel loads better already, emotionally, not so much. 

You bite your bottom lip and focus on the way the water swirls around your feet. 

“Because I make it really hard to look out for me sometimes.”

Their responding silence speaks eons more than their words ever could. 

Outside, the rain continues to pound against the window panes, and the crack of thunder can be heard even over the sound of the running shower.

'It never would have worked anyway. Alphas don't belong with other alphas, (Y/N).'

********************************************************************************

To Be Continued

********************************************************************************

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[jello-bbq]

Near Death, Again

(Platonic! Tsu'tey x Avatar! Reader) (Platonic! Jake x Avatar! Reader)

Unwitting people find themselves sharing a fondness for the dreamwalker child. Mystery surrounds their injuries and the sleep from which they have not woken. (2.3k)

I am pulling this straight out of the garbage pile and making it all up. Does anyone actually like this. Also forget to mention that reader is like, 17-ish? To me at least, imagine them however you want. Blood and injury tw.

"I told you not to push too much, we could lose it! It could die!"

"What do you care!?"

"I spent millions of dollars on that little investment at least be fucking delicate!"

A small room, barely enough to sit in. The yelling reverberated over the concrete walls, unheard by the child who kept their hands over their ears. Even so, there could be no silence.

They felt as if every thought had a voice, and among the thousands that swarmed their head, each screamed at full volume. Suffocating. It felt suffocating.

The metal door creaked open, washing the small space with light and revealing the massacre. The source of the argument.

Blood spewed from the child's ears. From their mouth. From their eyes, unseeing as the red filled their vision.

"Look at it! It's bleeding everywhere, are you even sure it will survive the night?"

The child remained oblivious. Or maybe the thoughts just left no space for anything else to be recognized.

"Ma'am, I can assure you that it will survive. We've done a lot more brutal things-"

"Brutal! Do you think I swat a fly and call it brutality? I'm talking about it's survival, I have spent too much on this for it to fail. Don't push it."

"Well, fix it so it won't fail or don't push it? With all due respect, it's one or the other so just how much do you want this to succeed?"

The door shut again, enclosing the flood of crimson.

Barely a second is taken to consider the words. "Fine, fix it." Those final words rang through the air as the sound of footsteps fell away.

It would be hours before anyone would open the door again. Dragging the small, unconscious body, almost indiscernible with the blood wrapping it in different shades of red.

"How's it doing?"

"Still breathing, sir."

"Good, take it away."

After only a day of rest, they were taken again into the lab and ended up with the same fate. Bleeding onto the tiles with no space in their head to even feel hurt.

To that child, screams were not abnormal. In fact, more concern rose when there were no screams. How could there not be in a place so intent on practicing cruelty?

The sounds didn't bother them. That's all they were. Sounds. Ones they couldn't even connect to faces. The company took enough measures to ensure that but perhaps left the children in close enough quarters that the screams would serve to keep them in line. Who knows.

They certainly didn't. Why would they waste time thinking about such things when they could barely think for themselves?

Two sharp knocks on the door. The squeak of the metal flap. The slide of the tray against the tile. Those were the only sounds they cared for.

They stood from the cramped bed, which had barely been enough as a child. Even more so as they grew older. But that night, as they squeezed dry the plastic containing the same tasteless paste that had been served for years, the screaming suddenly sounded different.

It took a moment to realize why. These were not screams of children.

That night the sounds stopped. No knocks on the door. No tray of questionable food sliding in. No screams.

It didn't take long to realize what happened. They were abandoned. The screams that night had been of worry. And if they thought hard enough, they could remember some of the words.

'Found us', 'hide', 'leave those to die'.

Of course, 'those' pertained to them.

And to however many kids sat in locked cells in that long hallway.

Kids raised in the bunker alongside them. Bred in little tubes and nourished into willing war machines. Or they would have been, if the scientists could only get their experiments right.

They couldn't remember how long it took. How long they laid on that cold tile floor wishing that they were bleeding out instead of starving.

Then, the door creaked open.

They were pulled out of the cramped room that held their life. A gloved hand tugging at their arm harshly. Lights shining at their face. Blurred figures. The ever so present smell of blood. The ache of walking after being still for so long. The wish to be carried which couldn't be voiced.

Those were the things they could remember, nothing else. Not how they got to the RDA. Not how many children there were in the truck that brought them over. Not even how they ended up in a soft bed that didn't stink of blood.

The reason for it all?

The experiment program had been leaked. This resulted in the sudden abandonment. Someone in the bunker grew a conscience and spread it to the public, which caused outrage.

The rest ran before they could be caught. The whistleblower died for the crime of seeking justice. And the government had fucked up enough that they only found the bunker three days later.

Many of the younger children were dead by then.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When they awoke, they didn't relish the soft bed. They instead felt the absence of blood, and it made theirs run cold.

The only explanation they could think of for the lack of the sharp smell was that it had yet to be introduced. And with them being the only one in the room, it could only be their blood that would end up spilt.

That thinking brought them to a situation. A knee on the back of a man's neck. His arms held tight in their shaking hands.

"Everything's okay, you're okay. You're fine." The man tried to be soothing, his voice sounding weird as half his face remained closely acquainted with the floor.

The tone only set off more alarms in their head, their knee coming down harsher. "Quiet."

The man didn't listen. "They're gone. Those scumbags that did all that to you and those kids, they're locked up. You're not in that bunker anymore."

"Quiet," they repeated.

The door slid open. They took advantage of the person's surprise and ran for it, not thinking of anything as they wove through the halls.

The experiments had come through, doing the work for them so they need not think for themselves.

But a failed test subject, barefoot and in a new environment, could only get so far.

They were back in the room in thirty minutes, proud at least of the injuries it took to get them back there.

The window wouldn't break. They tried it the moment the door shut. So they settled for hiding under the bed, a fallacy on their part as they couldn't run for the door fast enough when it opened.

"Kiddo?"

A man entered, the same one they pinned down the first time. They could only see the lower half of his legs, but they could tell he looked around the room before crouching.

They had half a mind to lunge at him then when he offered a smile. "Hey, no hard feelings about earlier. I get that you're scared and that's understandable." He only smiled brighter when they glared, furthering their confusion.

"I'll just-" he moved back, sitting against the wall opposite the bed. "I'll stay here if you don't mind."

They thought that was it, and went back to reviewing the building's blurry layout that they somehow pieced together from the brief stint outside.

"What's your name?"

No reply.

"How old are you?"

Silence.

The man sighed. He moved, they assumed to get up and get out but he instead lay down on his side, catching their eye. "Hi. My name's Tommy."

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"They're gonna get through this," Jake told no one in particular, eating dinner alone in the empty cafeteria. He repeated that over and over in his head.

Sometimes it felt like the only thing he could think. Even though his lessons with Neytiri continued, he always found his way back to that one thought.

It felt bad enough not knowing anything. But not having anything to say felt worse.

He had to keep telling Neytiri that he didn't know why they weren't waking up.

Nobody knew why. Not the medical doctors. Or the science doctors. Or anyone.

He didn't understand. Especially when he wheeled himself over to their room. They looked fine. Like he could shake them awake.

"You're gonna wake up, right kid?"

They didn't answer him except with more of the same, uniform breathing.

Jake hated it at first. It reminded him of his days in the VA. Unable to do anything but listen to patients beside him who had it much worse. But now he realized that it at least meant they were alive. And he would take that over nothing.

He took the yogurt cup from his otherwise empty tray, placing it in the fridge, beside the others he'd saved up with every meal.

"You have to wake up."

He fell asleep in that room just like he did the three nights before, sitting by their bedside holding their hand.

°•°••°•°••°•°

Tsu'tey did much of the same. Though he himself needed to rest, he insisted on watching over their body. He knew that should they wake, it would be in their other body first but he snuck off to their tent anyway just in case.

So much so that the healers placed his bed in their tent, if only to no longer deal with coaxing him back to his tent whenever he went to theirs. Which was often.

He no longer joined the morning hunt. Or hunted at all. Spending all his time beside them instead.

"No changes?"

Someone pulled back the tent flap, allowing him a brief view of the outside. When did night fall?

"Nothing."

Zeyko nodded and began unwrapping the bandages as she did every night, changing them out for new ones.

She worked carefully.

As each layer slowly unraveled, her touch grew softer. Almost feather-like near their skin, as if one wrong move and they would break.

He never talked to Zeyko before the accident. Nothing that would count as a conversation anyway. Nods of acknowledgement, gestures of greeting, a grunt or two whenever she'd have to patch him up.

They were too different, and so they held a silent agreement. To not step over the line, to fulfill separate duties, to act with the barest friendliness only if needed but to not be friends.

An agreement that Tsu'tey had with many as he kept all at arm's length.

But now the two held a new agreement. Nothing that asked anything of either of them. Just an agreement. Unspoken, perhaps even unheard.

Both cared for the dreamwalker.

°•°••°•°••°•°••°•°

The dreamwalker in question could not have had a more fitting name. They were stuck in dreams. Walking amongst figments of imagination. Talking with memories. Walking. Walking. Walking.

Time didn't exist wherever they were, at least not in the binding way it did elsewhere.

They walked and walked. Never feeling tired. Never in the same place. Through memories that weren't theirs. And pasts that had occurred long before them.

"Why are you here, child?"

They didn't understand. It felt exactly like when their head couldn't keep up. A fuzzy feeling, like mold growing in their brain. The words began to make sense separately, slowly, understanding forming in the back of their mind as they continued walking.

Each step wakened them. Like their consciousness had spilled all over and now it had begun to creep back into the crevices of their being.

Again, they were asked. "What are you here for?"

They couldn't answer. But the question had them realizing they were running now, and all at once their thoughts came rushing back.

"What?"

Nothing.

For a second they feared they had imagined it.

"So you have awoken, you were in quite the deep sleep."

"Yes," they murmured, looking around. A forest. "Yes, I suppose I was."

They blinked, and they were in the mountains, floating over the trees.

"Where am I?"

"You are with me. You are safe."

Even without asking, a name tugged at their mind. They were in the forest again.

"Why am I here?"

"To learn, perhaps. You are an interesting one." They blinked again, opening their eyes to a river. "The path you have chosen, it will be hard."

"I haven't chosen any path." Another mountaintop.

The faceless voice smiled, they knew this in the way one knows things in dreams. A feeling, more than a thought or deduction. "You have chosen, stepping into danger for one of mine. He would have been welcomed home otherwise."

The world began to crumble, flickering like a light. The voice kept going, strangely calming, even as they began to fall. "You and Jake Sully, yes I think we can find a use for you. I will help you."

They fell continuously, knowing this even while hearing and feeling nothing. They were falling through the inky black.

It felt nice. Like laying in the sand and letting waves lap at your body.

The feeling was strange. They knew it didn't belong. Not with them.

This thought tugged at them. A rope tied around their waist, guiding their fall somewhere. As it did, they began to feel more things tugging at them. More and more. Until they were shooting through the ink.

The dark began to lift gradually.

Their eyes blinked open. All memory of what just happened began to fade. Like a word you know but cannot remember.

They blinked again, taking in their surroundings. A hospital room. Nighttime. Something beeping. They tried to stand, limbs moving in slow motion. They didn't realize their hand slipping from someone else's. Though they felt the warmth, brows furrowing as they wiggled their fingers.

It felt strange. Like they were in that moment between dreaming and awake. Everything felt strange.

Another movement caught their eye. A movement they couldn't control.

"Tommy?"

[midnightmajick]

Miss Me?

Derek Danforth x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of drug use and sex, some angst

18+ only, Minors DNI

Word count: 1,076 words

Also, I wrote a part two, here is the fem reader version

Wanna Feel It

The masc reader version

Wanna Feel It (Masc Reader)

And the gn reader version

Wanna Feel It (Gn Reader)

Derek Danforth never truly let anyone know him for who he was. He put on a dominant, commanding facade, but underneath all of that, he’s just a little boy whose father left because he thought his son was a disappointment. If only his father could see him now. An unstoppable force who created his own multi-million-dollar empire. Who’s laughing now Dad? he thinks to himself.

He takes a drag from his cigarette and exhales, he’s tired and his head is pounding from the sheer amount of alcohol and weed he consumed last night. He’s half drifting off, half lost in thought when you come up behind him. He flinches. Who the fuck was behind him? He’s certain his pot was laced; he had a really bad trip last night and he’s still somewhat paranoid. You pick up on his worry, and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

“It’s just me,” you soothe. No response. Is he upset with you? “Derek?” But he still doesn’t answer you. Meanwhile, Derek is livid. As far as he can remember, he got a text from you saying you were leaving him. It was hazy, but it happened, right?

It bothered him more than it should, he didn’t usually get attached to people, and you shouldn’t be an exception. His father would say he was being pathetic, weak for missing you. And he would be right. If you leave, he can just find someone else. He doesn’t need you. Or at least he shouldn’t. But as you begin to speak, he realizes he does.

“Derek, what’s with you? You-” He immediately interrupts you, and his voice is full of malice. “You think you’ll ever find anyone like me? Who can give you what I can? Cause I’m telling you right now, you can’t. No matter what, I am the best thing that will ever happen to you. You can’t just throw me away. You’d be stupid to let go of-” But now it’s your turn to cut him off.

“What are you talking about? You’re acting like I did something, and I have no clue what the problem is. What did I do?” As soon as you finish your question, he leers at you. If looks could kill, well, you’d definitely be dead. “How do you not remember?” he growls. “Remember what?” Now you’re really confused. What the fuck was he talking about? “You said you were done with me,” he quips angrily, then snarkily retorts, “Not that it bothers me.”

“Number one, I never said that; and two, it’s clear that it does,” you respond, confused why he was saying you wanted to leave him. You never said anything of the sort, and you’re hurt that he wouldn’t have cared if you actually wanted to leave. You know he does deep down, but hearing him say otherwise is still painful.

You told yourself not to get attached to him, but that all went out the window after he fucked you the first time. You’re just in it for the sex, you tried to tell yourself, but somehow you find yourself consumed by thoughts of him. You wonder what he’d be like if he were sober, if he wasn’t so angry all of the time. He has a huge chip on his shoulder and you have no idea why. All you know is he seems to want to prove himself over and over, despite being incredibly successful.

What if he were happy? What if you could make him happy? You had to try, right? But what if he finds out how you feel about him and bolts? You know he’s afraid of commitment, that he doesn’t want to be tied down by anyone or anything. But what if? That question will always remain if you never try, and you know it.

You know you should be happy with what you have with him, with having him fuck your brains out, but you want more than that. You don’t just want his body, you want his heart. His response snaps you out of your thoughts instantly, and it nearly breaks your heart.

“It really doesn’t. If I wanted to replace you, I easily could. Don’t forget who has the power here. You think you have the right to talk to me like that? I’m Derek fucking Danforth, I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone! So fuck off Y/N!” he snarls, voice dripping with venom. “B-but... I don’t want you to replace me... I... need you...” You trail off as you sniffle, wiping away the tears forming in your eyes. He immediately freezes in place.

“What?” he blinks, clearly unsure if he’s hearing you correctly. “I...” You try to speak, but the words won’t come out. “No, say it,” he presses softly. “Please.” The please is small, but shocking nonetheless. He never says please. Why is he saying it now? What makes now a time for him to be kind to you? He was incredibly pissed at you ten seconds ago, so why isn’t he now?

“I said...” you start, but your lips are frozen in fear, your body trembling like a leaf. What if he leaves you? What then? You gulp, flicking your eyes to his as panic nearly overtakes you. But you find him looking right back at you, with an expression you’ve never seen on his face. Ever. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it’s something soft, something sweet. Something completely foreign. Those gorgeous brown eyes are gazing right into yours, and you want nothing more than for him to kiss you. Not sensually, but lovingly. Tenderly.

“Go on, tell me,” he encourages, his eyes not leaving yours. Why is he acting like this? He’s never been sweet with you. He looks almost... Kind. As odd as you find this scenario, you find yourself unable to say no to him. Not when he looks at you like this.

“I need you,” you finally choke out. There’s no hiding it now. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils blown wide. Not with desire, but with something else, something you haven’t felt in a long time.

Before you know it, his scent fills your nostrils and his lips ghost over yours. They meet in a familiar dance, but something is different. New, even. And then it finally clicks. Why he’s finally letting his guard down. Because he feels the same. Because he needs you too.

[thepunchingbag]

Mical and Visas BFF Headcanons

Their friendship started when Mical caught Visas stealing his bandages/antiseptic/kolto injections from his medical supplies. Visas expected anger and she braced herself. But he wasn't angry, simply curious. She remained silent as Mical asked if he could help somehow; until he simply offered to give her what she needed if she only asked (and it would help to know the issue, so he might know what medical aid to provide). Then it became a regular thing, her visits to the Med Bay for supplies, Mical attempting to make smalltalk before she scurried away back to the shadows. Over time, she begins trusting him enough to actually help with wound care - and Mical is able to stitch the deeper scars too. He's a good listener. Even when she reveals extremely dark moments in her life, Mical remains calm, soft-spoken and kind; she finds his presence therapeutic.

Both of them grow powerful in the Force and use it regularly, unsettling even other Force sensitives. Due to his temple upbringing, I headcanon that Mical doesn't have any qualms using mind tricks/"reading" people's thoughts; always for peace and harmony and all that, of course, but he's not above using those techniques to achieve his goals (Atton is disgusted somewhere in the background). If Mical catches an opponent mentally unawares in combat, he crawls into their head and convinces them to flee. Visas can turn the air electric if she's furious - she may remain deathly silent, but the area around her will crackle with Force energy. Or the room's temperature will drop to freezing. She's also incredibly uncanny at detecting upcoming events - she's not clairvoyant exactly but she gets incredibly accurate hunches. Together, Mical and Visas can make an incredibly unnerving pair.

They're incredibly comfortable in each other's space. Sometimes they meditate together for hours, sometimes they silently just hang out (Mical reading a book on his datapad, Visas practicing her Force abilities, hovering various objects in the room with her mind). When they do talk, oh boy, they talk for hours and hours on pretty wide-ranging subjects, from Sith vs. Jedi philosophy to Katarr mythology to "What did you think of the soup we had for dinner?" Visas was extremely taciturn with Mical at first, but over time, he's earned her trust and she enjoys their chats. To be honest, she's still rather quiet around most of the crew besides Mical and the Exile.

Visas is extremely protective of Mical. She's very irritated with how passive he is in combat - Visas wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, but a part of her grudgingly admires his mercy. However, if Visas thinks he's in danger, she goes into full demonic Sith mode and will salt the motherfucking earth if her cinnamon roll friend is hurt.

They're both tall. I thought the post that said Mical had to be taller than Atton was fucking hilarious - and now I just imagine Mical as this 6'5 giant beanpole. Visas is statuesque, once she's no longer slouching and hiding herself in the shadows (she's accustomed to hiding from Nihilus, it takes her awhile to relax around the crew). Standing upright, she's the tallest woman on the ship, maybe only a hair shorter than Mical. And, together, they can physically make an intimidating pair. Mical is the gentle giant but Visas 100% uses her height to intimidate others if she deems it necessary. Even when the Exile just takes Visas and Mical along on missions, they can end up unintentionally unnerving other people, these two gigantic Force-sensitives looming in the background.

Headcanon that Mical is always making a pot of tea. The man is constantly brewing tea, drinking tea, he's mad for tea. He likes his tea malty, with a drop of honey and cream. He used to only make one cup, but now he's always sure to make another cup for his friend. She likes it strong, no sugar.

[abbygirly]

Heeeey guys!!! I'm back with Part II!! I'm sorry it took me a few days. I had a minor surgery yesterday and I was freaking out lol

I hope you enjoy reading and wait for Part III, when things will finally get HOT!!

Tell me what do you think!! ❤️

I spent night after night thinking about Hopper and I didn't know what I could do to make him finally give in and make his move. I felt deep down that he was also interested. When I was younger, his bear hugs were playful and he would tickle me to make me laugh; now, I feel him holding his breath, not letting our bodies get too close, and his eyes linger on my curves and his jokes are mostly innuendos about how much I grew up and how he'll have to "beat up any stupid guy that gets too close to me".

The thing is: Hawkins is a small place and I knew that, if anyone saw us together, the news would spread like wildfire and I didn't want that to happen.

I had to come up with something. Fast.

Summer came and my friends decided to celebrate the end of class by going to a bar. It was Friday and I was at Nancy's house getting ready. I knew Hopper likes to have a drink or two after finishing work at the station, so I wanted to dress up to get this attention.

-How does this look? - I asked Nancy.

I wore a black dress that emphasized my curves perfectly. The dress was halfway up my thighs with a discreet neckline that made my breasts look amazing.

-It looks great!! You can keep this one, I'm too flat to wear that.

-Oh, stop it, Nance. Let's go already before it gets crowded. I want to wait for Hopper there.

-Are you sure you're going through with this plan?

-I have to. I won't be able to live with this feeling, whatever it is. I need to know if he feels the same and I want him to be my first.

I want him to be the only one, but we'll take one step at a time.

-OK, but be careful not to get hurt.

-I'll be careful.

We arrived at the bar and it was full of my classmates, drinking and dancing. Nancy and I sat down with Jonathan at one of the tables and I ordered a drink, looking around nonstop, looking for Hopper.

I hope he shows up today. This might be the best opportunity to make my fantasies come true.

Later, another friend of mine took me to the dancefloor and I felt completely free, swaying to the beat of the music and singing along. I haven't had this much fun in a long time.

I was dancing, forgetting about Hopper for a while, when I felt someone getting closer to me. When I looked up, a guy was dancing by my side. He was thirty-five or something. I stepped away from him, getting back to the table, looking for Nancy and Jonathan, but they were probably outside, making out. I sat on the bar and asked for another drink when I felt a strong hand on my shoulders.

-Hey! You left me standing there!

-I'm not interested.

-You didn't even give me a chance.

He was clearly drunk, trying to remain on his feet, but his legs could barely stand still.

-I don't want to talk to you!

-You little bitch! - he yelled, trying to punch me in the face, but some other guys grabbed his arm. - This little girl needs to learn a lesson.

-C'mon, man. Leave her alone - someone said, but he wouldn't give in so easily.

-No! She's with me.

-What the hell is going on here? - I heard behind me; that voice. HIS VOICE.

I turned around, meeting Jim Hopper's eyes.

-Hey, she's with me! - the drunk guy said, grabbing me by my hair.

Huge mistake.

Hopper wasn't wearing his uniform. He wore a flannel blue shirt and jeans, looking sexy as hell. This guy wasn't from around here, because everyone knows Chief Hopper in Hawkins.

Hopper took him by his arms, pulling him against the wall. The people around us all stepped away, knowing it was better to stay out of the chief's way.

-You don't touch her, do you understand? You don't touch a fucking hair out of her head!!

-Fuck you, man.

Drunk guy was brave enough to try and punch Hopper, but Jim was much bigger than him and easily dropped him to the ground.

-You're under arrest for assaulting the chief of police. Get the fuck up.

Hopper handcuffed him. The bar owner called the police station so someone could come and take the guy. Meanwhile, Hopper looked at me, realizing what I was wearing, his eyes trailed down my body, staring at me. The hunger in his eyes made me feel like a prey, helpless. A shiver ran down my body, concentrating between my legs.

-What the fuck are you doing here, Abby?

TO BE CONTINUED...

[grodyego]

talk about the relationship between Dove and Vega?

OHHH GLADLY !!!!!

dove and vega kind of take the longest to fully warm up to each other (rakesh is really kind of the binding glue that holds them together. tbf that remains true even after everybody is fully friends with everybody else, hes just kind of the heart of their team that way). they don't start out disliking each other or anything like that, but they are both mutually quite bad at making friends and interacting with other people in a "normal" capacity, for their own reasons (vega's a control freak who struggles to understand other people and dove lowkey doesn't even think of himself as a full human being most of the time), and they're both pretty stubborn by nature and thus naturally butt heads a bit. dove finds vega's apparently flippancy towards others and her only priority ever seeming to be her "work" or gathering data to be irritating at best and actively unnerving at worse. vega likewise is pretty quick to catch and callout dove's bad habit of projecting onto other people and the hypocrisy that lends towards and thinks it makes me come off holier-than-thou and preachy at times, so it causes some tension !

all that being said, given that dove and rakesh are actual partners in the field (and their relationship grows quite quickly), vega reasonably starts to get pretty apprehensive about becoming a "third wheel", which for dove's part he does pick up on, and goes out of his way to do things to reassure that that isn't what's happening (nor could it ever be, frankly). hes pretty good at recognizing that vega is still pretty young without condescending to her about it because he actually sympathizes with her position pretty greatly, he can understand what its like, hes kind of been there. vega for her part appreciates that most people seem to think both of them are creepy and weird, and she has a lot of fun kind of filling in some of the blanks for him on some aspects of the future he doesnt fully understand, cuz like. i invite you, fellow autists, to imagine how amazing it would feel to be able to infodump about everything youve ever been invested in, from scratch and in such a level of detail it was as if you were explaining it to somebody who has just showed up that day on earth

again vega's pretty limited in her social circle and usually insists she doesn't want or need friends, kind of in contrast with how she often behaves, i think she would even maybe initially be kind of. almost mad that not only has dove managed to make her care about him, but to the point where she is like, emotionally invested in his wellbeing and safety. NOT cool of him. she came to highly secretive questionable ethics factory so that she'd never have to do that again and then rakesh already took what was supposed to be her only one exceptions spot, now she's gotta care about two people ???? who both work in the "not only will you die it will hurt the entire time you're dying" department ????? thats exhausting. fuck those guys

[mxanigel]

The first fic I ever posted to AO3 focused on Aryn Lavellan, a demisexual mage Inquisitor who served as my first DAI protagonist when the game came out. When I replayed her in 2020, I didn't like how her romance with Cullen unfolded in-game (for context, I still hadn't played DA2 at this point, which has further altered my view of their relationship).

Marking my first return to fanfic writing in over a decade, I ended up crafting a story that explored how she might react to Cullen's statements and behavior regarding mages. They fight. They separate. And they each grow as people. It also features Dorian as Aryn's best friend because I adore those two.

it's always darkest before the dawn

Rating: T Word count: 35,473 [complete] Relationship: Female Lavellan/Cullen Rutherford Tags: Angst, Banter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Inquisitor, Romance, Companionable Snark, Redemption, Slow Burn, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Getting Back Together

They kissed, they danced, he gave her his lucky coin. But Cullen Rutherford's prejudices against mages haven't lessened, no matter how much he claims to care for mage Inquisitor Aryn Lavellan. After a heated argument sparked by the discovery of Samson's lair, Aryn breaks up with him. Too late, Cullen realizes the harm he's done. Yet Aryn must continue leading the Inquisition while fighting to fall out of love with its commander.

“They might go to ground if we don’t act now! He has a skilled Tranquil maintaining his armor. We must take that resource away from him.”

Creators help me, a Tranquil mage is still a fucking person. Cullen’s past comments about mages—all too casually delivered to her face—barrel unbidden through Aryn’s mind: templar rules on ‘fraternization,’ a mage’s supposedly unavoidable weaknesses to possession, his constant exceptions for her instead of tackling his prejudices against her kind.

Her long-simmering rage boils over. “Don’t call Maddox a blighted resource. He’s a person. Just like me.”

“He is nothing like you.”

“Really? I’m a mage, someone you seem to think could transform into an abomination at any moment.”

“I trust you!”

“Because I’m the Inquisitor? Because you have to?”

“Because you’re different!”

“Different from…” She leans toward him, for once hoping her fury is clearly visible on her face. “Different from what, Cullen? From all the other mages you’ve ever watched? No, not watched, imprisoned.”

He slams his right fist into his left palm. “Mages have to be protected from themselves! As soon as they gain their freedom, they turn to blood magic or worse—”

She flings one arm toward Skyhold. “Have any of our mage allies become abominations now that they’re out of the Circles? Or fallen to the lure of blood magic? No! I haven’t, Solas hasn’t, Dorian hasn’t, and none of them have, either. Despite the Breach, the Rifts, the all-too-thinness of the Veil. Perhaps so many of the mages you watched turned to such terrible deeds because of what you did to them.”

“I didn’t—”

“You demanded the annulment of the Fereldan Circle just in case any of the survivors had used blood magic! You were ready to condemn innocents out of fear!”

“How do you—” Shock writes itself across his face. “You didn’t see what Uldred and his followers had done!”

“Oh, that excuses you condoning murder? Do you realize how many people—how many of my people have died thanks to similar excuses?” Aryn throws her hands in the air. “You believe you care about me. You’ve decided I’m different enough to tolerate my race, my background, your deep-seated fear of magic. But that’s wrong. I won’t remain in a relationship with someone who has to excuse what I am.”

[Read the full fic on AO3]